The week passes quickly, Slim caught up in doing the work of two men around the ranch, wondering at how quickly he'd gotten used to Jess being there to pick up the slack. Friday evening comes and goes with no sign of the other man though, and Slim tries not to worry. There's plenty of things could've happened in Cheyenne or on the trail to delay Jess, and none of them ill news. Still he spends the next morning feeling strangely unsettled. He's got a bad feeling for a reason he can't quite put a finger too, one that clings like the the stink of manure.
He's just washing up the dishes of an early lunch on Saturday when he hears the sound of hoofbeats from outside; it's got to be at least four or five riders, judging from all the ruckus. Shifting the curtain over the kitchen window he glances out to find six men on horses milling around the yard, all wearing guns and with rifles in their scabbards. Slim frowns, that bad feeling suddenly blooming back to life. If he didn't know better he'd say it looked like a posse. Pulling off his apron he throws it on the kitchen table and heads for the front of the house, making sure his own gun is seated in it's holster and that his rifle is near at hand before he opens the door.
"Can I help you gentlemen with something?" He calls, stepping out onto the porch. One of them, Slim surmises the leader of the little band, brings his horse forward, eyeing Slim up with a sharp gaze. He looks to be about forty or so, with a thick mustache and a long lean face.
"Names Wilson. Ed Wilson. We're looking for Jess Harper. He work here?" He asks. As soon as Slim hears his ranch hand's name he tenses.
"Yeah, he does." He offers warily. "What business do you have with him?"
Wilson grins, but there's something grim about the expression. "Just a little justice. Your hand's wanted for double murder and cattle theft."
Slim resists the urge to gape, the words so unexpected the fellow might as well have told him the sky was green and the earth was flat. "Killed a rancher and his wife up near Cheyenne, made off with about twenty head of cattle." Wilson continues bluntly, either not noticing or ignoring Slim's shock.
"That doesn't make any sense." Slim manages, trying desperately to pull himself together. "I sent him up to Cheyenne three days ago to close on a stud bull, but Jess isn't- he wouldn't murder anyone."
Wilson shrugs, leaning forward with both elbows on his saddle horn. There's something to the man's attitude that bothers Slim, a certain cultivated nonchalance that rings distinctly false.
"You sure about that Mr. Sherman? From what I saw of his record, he's killed a fair bunch of people, been in a lot of trouble over the years. Seems a dangerous type of man to keep around." He drawls, almost lazily. Slim feels his temper spark a little at that, feeling oddly protective of Jess's reputation.
"Now listen here mister, Jess's toed the line sure, but he's not a murderer, or a thief. Long as he's been here he's never broken the law or killed anybody that wasn't trying to hurt him or someone else first. He's even been a deputized a few times." Slim protests hotly, trying and failing to keep his voice even. "Now you got any proof that it was Jess that done this, sides from your word?"
"Fella who was friends with the man who got killt came forward to the sheriff when he heard what happened. He'd told a Jess Harper that the victim was trying to sell off some cattle cheap, and Harper said he would head that direction on his way back to Laramie. Next thing you know, someone's shot him and his wife up, cattle's all gone." Wilson replies, watching Slim through half-lidded eyes. He reminds Slim of something, but he can't put a finger on exactly what it is. "Ain't hard to put two and two together now is it."
Slim's stomach sinks a little. It doesn't look good, and for the briefest moment Slim thinks about the way Jess'd been on him like an angry wildcat out by the creek the first time he'd met him, thinks about the filed-off sear on that gun he'd ridden in with. He remembers the look Jess'd had in his eyes in the saloon the night after his friend Gil had been lynched, like he was just hoping for someone to give him a reason to pull the trigger. There's a lot about Jess that he doesn't know, a lot of history Jess hasn't shared, but the bits and pieces Slim had been given paint a none too pretty picture. The man has seen violence and death, and for a moment Slim wavers, a sliver of doubt raising it's ugly head. What if, some tiny part of him that he's ashamed of whispers. He rallies himself though, unwilling to believe that the same man he's seen croon to a heifer through a breech birth, or stay up all night helping Lady foal would be able to shoot two people dead in their own home over a handful of cows. Perhaps just unwilling to believe that he could have misjudged someone that badly. He shakes his head, crossing his arms.
"Listen, if he's done this- which I still don't believe he has to be clear- why would you come looking here? If he'd really just murdered two people you'd think he'd make a run for it." Wilson shrugs.
"Hell, I don't pretend to know how a murderer's mind works, maybe he's dumb enough to think no one would pin it back to him. Anyways, our sheriff's out looking too. Figured the law could use a little help so we rode the trail from the ranch straight back to Laramie and didn't see hide nor hair of him. If he got those cattle legal-like he wouldn't be trying to hide them now would he?"
Another man kicks his horse forward then, a big fellow with muscular arms and foul look on his face. "Come on, we don't got time for this. Harper's not here, we should be back out there lookin' for the bastard, not wastin' time explainin' ourselves." Wilson drags his eyes off of Slim, shooting a glance over at his friend.
"Yeah, alright Loomis. Let's get a move on." He moves to gather this reins up, but Slim takes a step forward. He doesn't like the look of these men; they're not hungry for justice, they're hungry for blood. It's a recipe for a lynching if he ever saw it.
"Look, why don't we go in to town and get the sheriff from Laramie, we'll ride with you to look for him. Even if Jess's guilty he deserves a fair shot at a trial, same as anyone."
"Don't you worry, your friend'll get justice." Loomis drawls, and the words are said with an ugly smile that sets Slim's hair on end. He takes another step forward, one hand drifting for his iron. He's not sure what his plan is exactly, just that he feels he can't let these men ride out of here after Jess. Quick as can be Wilson draws his own gun, leveling it Slim.
"Ah ah ah, that ain't a very smart idea. Now we're going to ride outta here, and you ain't gonna stop us. You understand?" Slowly Slim lifts his hands up, nodding tightly. Wilson smiles again, tipping his hat. "Thank's for your co-operation, Mr. Sherman. You have a nice day now." Then, without losing his aim, he slowly backs his horse up, the rest following, until they clear the edge of the yard and take off down the road. It's not until they're gone until Slim finally realizes what Wilson had reminded him of; a snake looking for a meal.
Jess hums tunelessly, kneeing the colt forward as he loops around the small herd to box in a stray. They're good healthy looking steers, one of the heifers even has a calf, a sweet little thing with a white patch in the perfect shape of a heart on her forehead that Jess has taken to calling Valentine. He figures Andy'll go crazy for her once he's back from his aunt's place next week.
He's taking an old cattle trail that cuts through the valley between Twin Mountain and the Turtle Rock, following Crow Creek. This keeps him off the main road and makes sure there's plenty of water for the herd. It's also adding a little extra time onto the trip, but Jess figures Slim won't mind so much when he sees what he's bringing back with him. Jess'd gotten a durn good price for the cows too, the tip the fella in Cheyenne had given him panning out well. The rancher, a pretty young fella to be looking to get out of the business, had been more then willing to offload the herd for cheap, seeming real amiable about the whole thing. Hadn't stopped grinning the entire time Jess had been signing the papers, like he was in on some joke Jess didn't understand. Not that it bothered him, at the price he was giving he could smile as much as he damn well pleased as far as Jess was concerned. Besides he's enjoying himself. The weather today is hot, it's going to be a real scorcher in an hour or two, but riding by the water keeps the air cool enough not to be miserable. A herd this small is easy enough to wrangle on his own, and he's pleased to find the buckskin is holding up well working with the steers. Jess figures he'll make a real good cow-pony soon enough, and the thought pleases him.
He adjusts his hat, sitting back in the saddle and letting the buckskin pick his way alongside the cattle as they follow the river. The last few days have been just what Jess needed, a little time out on the road and under the stars to sate the wanderlust that twisted beneath his skin, but he's surprised to find just how much he's looking forward to returning to the ranch. The itch that drove him out on the trail has faded away like it never was and now he craves nothing more then to sit out on the porch with Slim after dinner in the gentle hum of the crickets to watch the blue dusk settle over the hills, kick off his boots and crawl into his familiar bunk. Wants to wake in the morning to the sound of Slim's snores, drink hot coffee and eat his breakfast from the pretty transfer printed porcelain dishes Slim's mother had got as a wedding gift.
It all feels so foreign, to have a place he knows so well, and people there waiting for him. To have a bed that's his and not just for the season, to sleep in the house besides Slim and not out in the bunkhouse. To eat at the same table as the family, to be cared for. It all seems so impossible, if you'd told Jess this time last year just what his life would look like he'd have laughed right in your face, the idea that he could ever come to rest somewhere as likely as striking gold. And yet, here he is. Not only on his way back, but eager to get there too. It all feels so fragile, like if Jess looks at it for too long it might all disappear out from under him. Gold dust running through his fingers. He knows he hasn't always been the best at things like keeping to a schedule or doing exactly what he's told when he's told it, but he's worked hard these last few months at taming some of his wilder instincts a little. Not jumping to anger so quick, not high-tailing it for the road every time the going gets tough or he and Slim disagree over something. It had been hard at first, but it's easier now. Jess finds he doesn't mind softening a bit, not when the rewards are so rich. Now when it means Andy comes to him for advice and Jonsey picks him up things from the general store when he goes into town without Jess even asking. Not when it means Slim looks at him with a real sort of trust in his eyes.
It's with a smile on his face that Jess urges the colt forward, a sudden yearning to be back at the ranch tugging at him.
"Come on then," He says, giving the horses sides a tap with his boots, "Let's go home."