Hi everyone! Long time no see, I know. Summer has been busy. I decided to make this story much longer than originally planned, and it took me a while to work out the outline. I can't promise regular updates, but I can definitely promise that it will not be abandoned! Thanks to everyone who continues to read and comment. I appreciate you all!

Chasing Strays Ch 5

Jess slowly became aware of the world. He rolled over and stretched lazily, relishing the warmth of the bed and blankets. Sleeping-in was not a luxury he and Slim allowed themselves regularly. It was exceedingly rare that Slim managed to get out of bed without waking Jess; usually he would hear him as soon as he sat up. Jess rolled to his side and opened his eyes.

The sight of the afternoon sun lighting up Slim's empty bed sent a flash of alarm through Jess. It snapped his senses to attention quicker than the crack of a whip. Before it could really take hold, though, Jess could already feel that spike of alarm being gentled and pushed away. His senses dulled again as the sharp edges were carefully smoothed. Slim. As much as he appreciated his guide's efforts, the rapid rush and recession of awareness left Jess feeling even more disoriented. He quickly slipped on a semi-clean pair of pants and stumbled for the bedroom door, not bothering with his boots.

The first thing he noticed as he pushed the door open was Mort, sitting casually at the kitchen table. Jess leaned against the doorframe and blinked as he got his bearings. He could hear Slim knocking around at the stove, out of sight. The sheriff lifted a hand in greeting.

"Howdy, Jess," he said with an indulgent smile. "If I'd known this was such a formal affair, I would have worn a tie."

Jess cocked his head and scrunched his brow in confusion. Slim, curious as well, poked his head around the corner and grinned. Jess looked down at himself before rolling his eyes.

"I'll forgive you, Mort, just this once," Jess said with good humor, his voice rough with sleep. With just himself and Slim around the house, Jess had gotten used to wandering out to the kitchen before fully getting dressed. It wasn't often that Jess greeted guests bare chested and barefooted, though. He didn't even want to know what state his hair must be in. He ran his fingers through it just in case as he grabbed a spare shirt and slipped his arms through the sleeves.

"C'mon over and sit down," Slim said, his attention back on the stove. "Supper's just about ready."

"Supper?" Jess asked, as he ambled over and sat in his usual spot at the end of the table. "Thought I told you to wake me for the afternoon stage?"

Mort sipped his coffee quietly, feigning disinterest in the conversation. The charade would have been more believable if his eyes weren't cutting back and forth between his two friends, waiting for the next volley to fly.

Slim was standing over the stove with a wooden spoon in hand, presumably pushing beef and potato chunks around the stew pot. Onion, too, if Jess's nose was to be believed. His stomach growled. Slim just shrugged, but the glint in his eyes and the sheepish smile told Jess everything he needed to know.

"No call to. Mort rode in with 'em, so I had plenty of help," Slim answered, setting down the spoon and tossing in some pepper. "You needed the sleep," he added, fixing Jess with a no-nonsense blue stare that just dared him to argue.

For once, Jess didn't take the bait. His attention had instead been captured by a second blue stare.

Held against Slim's right side was their small houseguest, mostly hidden from view by the tall rancher's body. Wide eyed and silent, the boy watched Jess, his gaze unwavering as Slim moved around the stove. It was the first time Jess had really seen the boy awake. His eyes were clear and focused and his mouth formed a tiny frown. Jess listened for his heartbeat. It was quiet and quick, the way most kids' were, but maybe a bit quicker than usual. Must be nervous. Jess figured that was reasonable, all things considered. He gave the boy a smile and wave. Neither was returned. The serious look on his small, round face never slipped.

"Come and get it," Slim declared, deciding his stew was finished. Jess and Mort both stood up, grabbed a plate, and served themselves in their usual routine. Jess filled Slim's plate, too, since his hands were full, before the group settled back at the table. They ate quietly, talking about the usual stage line news and events in town. The boy sat perched on Slim's thigh with small arms still wound around his neck. Slim, for his part, never seemed to break stride. He carried on the conversation with Jess and Mort seamlessly as he offered the boy small bites from his own plate. The boy continued to watch Jess, and Jess watched him back. By the end of the meal Slim had finally coaxed the kid into unwinding one arm in order to hold a piece of buttered biscuit. As soon as the biscuit was gone, though, the free hand returned to Slim's shirt collar.

Jess decided it was time to give things another go.

"Say, Slim," he started, waiting until Slim looked up at him before continuing. Jess kept his face as open and relaxed as he could. "Gonna introduce me to your friend?"

The tiny heartbeat stuttered in response. Jess took special care to keep his own pulse steady, hoping not to spook the little guy.

Slim didn't answer right away. Instead, his eyes slid out of focus in an expression Jess recognized all too well. Slim was gauging the boy's emotions before answering.

"Sure," Slim said, keeping his voice soft, his focus shifting back to the child in his lap. "This here is Jess Harper, he lives here with me. Can you tell him your name?"

Jess raised his eyebrows. It was clear from Slim's tone that he didn't know the boy's name yet either. That surprised him. The way the boy clung to his partner seemed to say that the boy trusted him, but apparently that trust didn't extend to conversation yet. The boy continued to gaze steadily across the table at Jess with wary eyes. It was clear that he had no intention of answering Slim's question. Jess, who couldn't even remember the last time he'd had a conversation with a child as young as this one, had no idea what to say to help the situation. They just looked at each other, as if each one was waiting for the other one to break. Slim glanced back up to Jess, clearly also at a loss.

"Don't take it too hard," Mort interjected. Across the table, Slim's shoulders sagged almost imperceptibly in defeat. "He wasn't keen on introducing himself to me either. We don't know a darn thing about him yet," Mort finished, shaking his head.

Jess held up a finger as he rose from the table. "That might not be true," he said, striding across the room. He retrieved his saddle bags from the couch and brought them back to the table, three sets of eyes tracking his path. He sat back down, flipped back the flap one of the bags, and pulled out a rectangle of oiled leather. He laid it on the table.

"This," Jess said to the kid, keeping his voice light, "I think, belongs to you."

Skeptical blue eyes flicked down to the wrapping. Jess loosened the wrap and folded back the leather to reveal a Bible. Out of the corner of his eye, Jess saw the boy stiffen as he clearly recognized the item. Jess carefully opened the cover while the rest of the group looked on. They were in luck.

"Judging by the dates here," he said, "you must be Michael."

The boy blinked.

Gotcha.

"Michael Alexander Williams, born February 12th, 1865", Jess continued, carefully watching the boy's reaction. He was rewarded with another blink. "Son of Mr. Joshua Alexander Williams and Mrs. Abigail Wright Williams, married in November of 1863, in Parke County, Indiana."

Jess watched the boy, Michael, start to shake. Slim must have felt it, or at least felt the emotions behind the reaction, because he held Michael a little closer to his chest and ran a hand up and down his back in an effort to soothe him. Mort, for his part, stayed quiet.

Jess reached back into his bag. After a bit of fishing around, he pulled out two gold rings. "These are yours now, too," he said softly, holding the jewelry out. One small fist released its stranglehold on Slim's collar in order to accept the offer. Michael brought the rings up to his face and examined them closely. His lower lip started to tremble, erasing any doubt of whether or not he knew who had worn those rings before. He clutched them to his chest and buried his face in Slim's chest. Jess was helpless to do anything but watch as Slim wrapped both arms around the narrow shoulders and whispered soft comforts into the boy's hair. The scent of salt water drifted across the table and Jess's heart twisted in his chest.

Mort cleared his throat and Jess gave himself a mental shake. "Anything else in there I should know about?" the sheriff asked quietly, indicating Jess's saddle bags with a jerk of his chin.

Jess shook his head. "Wasn't much of anything around, save the normal household things. No cash and no jewelry besides the rings. Didn't look like things had been searched, though, so I reckon they didn't have any in the first place," he replied. His expression turned grim. "The fletching I found was Comanche." Mort frowned and nodded but said nothing. It was about what he'd expected.

Jess slid the Bible over to Mort's side of the table. "This is probably the best chance we have at finding any of his family. There's a few more Williamses listed there."

Mort nodded again as his eyes skimmed the carefully printed names and dates. He closed the cover and replaced the oiled leather wrap to protect the pages.

"I'll start sending wires in the morning," he said, standing up. Jess stood with him. "Are you two alright with little Michael here, until I can get a trace on someone?"

They both turned to look at Slim, still cradling the boy in his arms. Once quick glance at Jess was all they needed.

"Sure," Jess drawled, answering for them both. "Slim here's a regular ole professional nursemaid."

Slim didn't look up again, but he did give his opinion on that comment with a quick gesture behind Michael's back. Jess didn't even try to hide his grin.

Mort just rolled his eyes. "I best be gettin' back to town then," he said, starting toward the front door. Jess followed behind. "I'll send word on one of the stages if I hear anything. Might take a day or two, though," he warned, settling his hat on his head and opening the door. Jess just waved off the concern.

"We'll be fine, Mort," Jess told him, his voice dropping to a more reassuring tone. "Slim's got an inside track on the little feller and I ain't completely useless. We'll manage alright," he said.

Mort quirked an eyebrow but didn't comment further. Instead, he slipped out onto the porch with the usual goodbyes as the sun dipped below the horizon.

-Laramie-

Slim and Michael had both looked wrung out by the time little Michael calmed down. Slim had taken him to bed while Jess washed the dishes and worked through the evening barn chores. By the time Jess came inside again, the house was quiet and dark. He could tell Slim was already deeply asleep by the cadence of his breathing. Guiding, especially the full-time attention Michael needed, took a lot out of him. Jess figured it would take a stampede through the yard to wake Slim at this point. He slipped his boots off by the kitchen door anyway.

Jess went about his nighttime routine as usual and pretended not to notice the subtle shifting next to Slim. He didn't need to look over to see that Michael was still wide awake and watching his every move. He just laid down in his own bed, pulled the covers up to his chest, closed his eyes, and waited.

The blankets on Slim's bunk rustled as the boy sat up.

"You're wrong."

It was barely a whisper, but Jess heard him clear as a bell. He turned his head to meet those steady blue eyes, and Michael held Jess's gaze without so much as a twitch.

"That so?" Jess asked, just as quietly. The boy nodded. "Wanna tell me what I'm wrong about?" Another small nod.

"It's Mike. Just Mike."

"Nice to meet ya, Mike," Jess answered, turning his head back to face the ceiling. "I'm Jess."

"Hi Jess," Mike whispered, followed by more shuffling. Out of the corner of his eye, Jess watched the boy pull his knees up and fold his arms over them before resting his head on top of his arms. He stared straight ahead, not looking at Jess. His expression was as solemn as ever.

They were both quiet for a few moments. Jess knew the kid was working up to something, so he was back to waiting. Slim's gentle snores kept the room from being too silent.

"Ma and Pa ain't comin' back," Mike said to the room.

It wasn't a question, but Jess shook his head anyway.

"No they ain't," he confirmed.

Mike was quiet for long enough that Jess almost gave up waiting for an answer. Finally, he heard Mike take a deeper breath.

"You're like Ma," he said, somehow even softer than before. "Like me." He spoke the words like they were something sacred; like a secret he wasn't sure he was allowed to share, but he'd shared it with Jess.

Jess hummed in agreement. "How about your pa?" he asked. "Was he like Slim?"

Mike shook his head and glanced down at Slim's sleeping form.

"I ain't never met anyone like that," he said, his voice much less steady than before.

It was odd to hear Mike sound so unsure about Slim after watching the kid cling so tightly to him, but Jess supposed that made sense in its own way. He remembered how odd it had been to need a guide for the first time. It had made him feel weak and desperate, and he'd tried to deny himself on multiple occasions, but it didn't change the fact that he'd needed a guide.

"You can trust him. People like Slim help people like us," Jess said, trying to keep things as simple as possible. Slim mumbled softly in his sleep at the sound of his name.

It was way too late at night to explain everything now, and besides, Slim was much more qualified than Jess to explain how guiding worked. That was a conversation better left until morning. Luckily, the explanation seemed to satisfy Mike for the time being. He at least relaxed enough to lie down next to Slim again. Jess felt his own body unwinding as sleep drifted up to claim him.

Just when Jess thought the kid was asleep, he heard his voice again.

"You're still wrong."

"'Bout what?"

"Weren't no injuns."

Jess turned his head sharply to look at Mike full on, any traces of sleep leaving him. He propped himself up on an elbow.

"Did you see who it was?" he asked, trying to keep his voice soft and his tone even.

Mike just yawned and shook his head.

"But you're sure it wasn't Indians?"

This time, the only answer Jess got was deep, even breaths; one large set and one small set blending together in the quiet stillness of the night.

Jess flopped down on his back again and stared at the timbers above him. His mind raced with Mike's casual revelation. The answer had seemed so obvious when he and Slim had found the wagon that he hadn't really stopped to question it. The weather had washed away most of the detailed evidence anyway, and they'd had Mike to take care of. He hadn't even considered that there might be another explanation. He ran through the scene again, trying to remember everything he'd seen, smelled, and felt, and then trying to piece all of it together like a puzzle with only half the pieces.

Jess took a deep breath and let it out slowly through his mouth, trying to calm his mind. It would have to wait until morning. There was nothing more to be gained worrying over it now. He'd be better off well rested for tomorrow, when he could enlist Slim's help and hopefully coax more details out of Mike. Jess closed his eyes and hoped sleep would somehow catch up with him.

Hell of a time to fall asleep, kid.