Chapter Eight

There was water being wrung. The splattering noise going quiet, I felt the warmth touch my temple and then it slid down my cheek before landing against my mouth. The liquid feeling good, the moment the cloth went back in for another dip, I put my tongue against my lips. Tasted good, too, but even as the water wandered across my other cheek and dabbed underneath my chin, I didn't want another sample. I wanted to open up the door to the only safe place I've been in a long while, complete darkness.

"I see it in you. That fight hasn't ever failed you yet. Keep fighting, Jess. You'll win."

I dunno. I feel too beat, inside and out, to be able to pretend my pain away like I always do and get up to a new day. Huh. Maybe before I debate how strong my internal heroics are, I should find out if it's morning or if the stars were still hanging over me. My eyelids barely parting, I searched for the window. Yeah, it was lit up with the colors of day, all right. But seeing the light of the sun or moon didn't matter, for too much's been done to me. I don't wanna roll outta bed. I don't rightly care if I do at all. Letting my lashes flutter to another close I tried to find that deeper hue that would take me back under. There was too much brightness, though, and sleep, I could tell that even its comfort was pushing me away. Well, since it looks like I ain't gonna take another drop into oblivion's tunnel, maybe there is something to this go, fight, win sorta thing.

"Thanks," I whispered.

"Anytime. You think you could take some water?"

I licked my lips. Coffee'd taste better, but it was powerful enough that I ain't gonna argue with my thirst. "Sure."

His hand cradling my head, when he lifted, a cup came up to my mouth and I greedily swallowed. "Slow. Take it slow."

I gulped a second and then a third time and then came up empty. "More."

"Maybe a little bit. You'd think I was pouring a specially marked jug down your throat."

I almost smiled. "How'd you know that's my preferred taste?"

"I've seen you guzzling before, remember?"

My lashes still down, I tried to picture the half-breed and me sidled up to the bar. I couldn't find it. "How's that?"

"Never mind. You've had enough for now so don't even begin to ask for a plate and fork. Because I don't have one."

"Right," I answered, not surprised that my hand was kneading my belly. No, I didn't feel hungry, but the thought of food wasn't making me feel sick. So there was hope in the thought that the scent of steak'd eventually perk me up. "How long've I been here?"

"Two days, three nights."

I shook my head. "That don't feel right."

"Does it feel longer or shorter?"

"Shorter."

"That's because you woke once before. Don't you remember trying to bull your way out of here? That happened the first day."

"Kinda."

"The rest of your memory will catch up. That's quite the dent you have up there. I wouldn't be surprised if you have a skull fracture. So keep your head down, will you?"

"Maybe."

I finger went into my chest. "Look, you'll stay down if I have to sit on you."

"Sure," I said, my smile coming easier this time. "You and your whole army. Sorry. I shouldn't've said that."

"Why's that?"

"Oh, because of your shared blood."

It sounded like he was scratching his head. "My shared blood?"

"Yeah. Say, I never thought to ask before. What kinda tribe are you from?"

"Tribe?" After a failed attempt at a chuckle, I heard the long puff of air as if it was sighed outta his mouth. "That's a new one. Sherman, I guess."

"Sherman? That's a funny name for an Indian tribe."

"Indian? You think I'm an Indian?"

"Yeah. You're the fella that I met here before, ain't you?" My eyes stretching open, I saw the spots of blue getting wider and wider to match my own. "But you ain't. Ain't you?"

"No, Jess. I'm Slim."

My heart hammered out every letter before I could actually put them together on my tongue. "Slim?"

"Yeah. That must've been some knock on your head, Jess. What happened to you?"

"I ain't sure I remember clear enough to tell you all the details," I answered, but at the roll of my head, Slim's side came into view. In fact, it was a certain sidearm in view and I remembered enough to say it aloud. "I thought you shot me."

Slim pulled back as if I was waving my fist at him. "Why would I shoot you?"

Despite my headache, the memories were coming back with their dadgummed assault awfully fast. And that gave reason for the ache in my heart to explode all over again. "Because you said you'd shoot a hole through my head next time you saw me. It sure feels like you did, too."

He stepped away from me, his limp a rather rough clop against the floor and I followed every movement of his broken stride. "Jess, I don't know where you've got this idea from, but I didn't put a bullet in you."

"All right," I said, my temper going down some as I remembered how bad he'd been hurt. Why do I gotta be the only gunfighter in the world that's got compassion etched into his hide? Well, even though it's there, it don't mean I gotta show it all at once. "Maybe you did leave your iron alone. But you still won this fight and I'll prove it, too. You'll see. I'm gonna go. As soon as I can walk. I'll go."

Slim's vision held onto the door for a long time before he looked back at me. "Where are you going?"

"Anywhere that you ain't."

I saw the pain and my streak of compassion made me jerk upward as far as my body'd let me. "I thought that's what you wanted."

"No, Jess. All this time I've been fighting to get you back."

The tremble started in my spine and ran all the way down each leg. I dunno where it went after that, but it kept going so I was chilled all the way through. Dadgum, my teeth even rattled. "But I thought you hated me."

The pain made another dark flash in his eyes. "I could never be Cain, Jess."

"Does that mean I could never be Abel?" As he shook his head, my mouth went so dry I didn't think I was gonna be able to use my tongue, but somehow I peeled it away from the roof of my mouth. "Slim, I'm gonna have to hear it, all of it, or I ain't gonna believe it."

"I don't know where to start."

"Anywhere. Just tell me the truth!"

"All right. Heckard Channing."

If neither of us never knew how to properly hit a nail directly on the head before, we'd just received the perfect lesson. Slim'd hit that nail so hard it went into my skull in one thwack, opening my mind enough so that I didn't just see the truth, I understood it. "I shoulda known he was more'n an average outlaw and not your hired hand."

"I'm sorry, Jess. He's the one that wanted us separated. Not me."

While I wanted the entire story dumped in my lap, for now it seemed fine to be satisfied with the shortest, fastest version possible. "Why?"

"Fifty thousand dollars."

I whistled. "That'd tempt a lotta men to prove their meanness."

"It sure did on him."

"Where'd the fifty thousand come from?"

"Army payroll. Last month, right before payday, Heckard Channing was stripped of his rank and booted out of his barracks. Stealing this month's full sum of money was his way of getting back what he was owed."

"With a lotta extra thrown in."

"That's the size of it. Jess, you can barely sit up and you look like you're about to hurl and keel over at the same time. Don't you think you'd take this story better if you let yourself heal more?"

I looked at the fully lit window. "How long did you say I've been here?"

"Two days, but since it was late when you were brought in, that makes the extra night."

"Two days and three nights. If I can pretend to be healed after one night, I can pretend to be healed on the third so keep talking."

"At least lie back a bit."

"No. I wanna be able to look at you when you tell it out."

"What do you need to see?"

"I just…" Pausing, I dropped my gaze to the floor. What did I need to see? There was a simple answer, but it wasn't so easy to feel. The squeezing of my chest happened the moment it entered my head. I had to see the truth. Listening wasn't gonna cut it, because I've already been cut deep enough. By Slim. No, by Heckard Channing. No, that ain't it either. I've been hurt by the both of them and I couldn't be satisfied with the truth coming only inside my ears. It had to come inside all of me. I had to see it and feel it to believe it. "I reckon I need to see that you ain't lying to me."

"Jess, I…" Now it was his turn to pause, to look to the ground, to sigh. "You've been through more than just this one fight, haven't you?"

My hand probed at the bloodied bandage on my head. "Yeah. This one was the softest though."

"I bet Heckard Channing gave you the hardest."

"No," I said, needing to look back at the floor. "You did."

"You still think I shot you?"

I shook my head. "No. I reckon the lantern's been lit inside my skull bright enough to know that didn't happen, but there's been a lotta other things come at me instead of a bullet. Things that I can't let go of that fast."

"I understand. We'll walk that road step by step, whenever you're ready, all right?"

"Fine. But right now I need to know how much Heckard Channing's to blame in all of this. So sit me up higher, I can manage. I gotta, because I gotta know the truth."

Hands on my shoulders, Slim pulled me to the front of the cot so my back could rest against the wall. Not satisfied with how I started to sag forward, he grabbed my coat and stuffed it behind my head. The cushion felt nice, but I reckon I was gonna bob my chin down no matter what. At least I could lift my eyes this way, and right now they were in a hard lock with Slim's, made even better when he sat down on the cot next to me.

"Do I have to tell the first part over again?"

"No, I think I've got that part down, except remind me where you left off."

Slim smiled. "Heckard Channing and fifty thousand dollars."

"Right. I said I got that part."

"Then where did I leave off?"

"I dunno. I'll try it here, though. What's his beef with the army gotta do with us?"

"The money was being transferred to Fort Laramie by stagecoach. He made the ranch his target to take it off."

"All right, I can see that making sense, but the renegade in me's gotta wonder. Why not just hold the coach up somewhere between stage stops? The less men involved in a robbery's gonna be the best way to get it off without a hitch."

"And face a shotgun rider's perfect point? No, Heckard's not going to take that kind of risk. But the problem is, he didn't know he was trading a shotgun rider's perfect point for yours."

"Mine?"

"I know a lot of men have heard of you, Jess, but this one never had. I guess being in the army kept that kind of news out of his ears. Anyway, when Heckard started planning this robbery out, he had his choice of several weigh stations to hit. He chose the Sherman Ranch."

"Why?"

"I wondered that too, but I've had some time to figure it out. Crown Point's too close to Cheyenne. Donahue's is too full of women. And John McLean at Willow Springs has too many hired hands. That left the Sherman Relay Station, where his research showed him that only one man ran it."

"He didn't know about me."

"No. He only expected me to be there and I was the only man home when he first walked in."

"Because I rode to town after work to get a beer. Dadgum my spoiled, rotten stomach."

"Now, Jess, don't go heaping guilt on your lust for a good time. None of this is your fault. It's mine."

"That can't be."

"Listen. When Heckard came in with gun drawn, he sat me down, tied me up and told me what was coming in on the Tuesday stage. He also said if I cooperated, I wouldn't get hurt."

"For two days? You were supposed to oblige his needs for two days? That fool's a bigger fool than I first thought."

"Unfortunately he's actually rather smart. I'm the one that played the role of the fool."

"You? Never."

"It's true. I wanted to fight back, but being tied meant the only battle I could offer was with words so I threw him a punch and told him that he'd never get it. He hit me, hard across the mouth and I felt so smug after, I laughed."

"You laughed?"

"I did, because I felt like I had an ace up my sleeve. That wildcard was you, Jess, and I let it slip that there was a man due in any moment that'd outdraw him in an instant and stuff him in his grave. I told you that Heckard did his homework and in studying my background, he figured I was just a simple rancher and with me, he had nothing to fear. But even though you'd never met him before, the reputation I painted you with had him sick to his stomach. The only way for him to feel cured was to get rid of you."

"He sure went to a lotta trouble making up a story like that, especially when a trigger pull'd do the same kinda trick."

"In his words, it was easier to lie to your face than shoot you. Remember, I made your gun rather hot in his sight, much hotter than his could ever be."

"He still coulda shot me with all those friends he had along. Dadgum."

"Friends?"

"There musta been seven or eight kicking my hide when he told me to get outta Laramie."

"I'm sorry, Jess. I didn't know things would get that rough on you. I tried to lie to get you out of trouble, but he saw right through it."

"Yeah, you ain't a very good liar. You sweat too much."

"I suppose you're right. But Heckard Channing's a pro."

"He must be. Everything was so dadgummed real. How'd he do it anyway, Slim? The payment written in the ledger, your signature, all my belongings tossed about, even my hidden gun was thrown in the dirt. Only you'd know about those things."

"I was under gunpoint at all times, Jess. There was another man there. Heckard called him a cousin, I think, and he had me pinned against the wall with such pressure on my neck, I was left with a bruise the shape of his gun barrel. I had to write it down, sign my name and tell it all out like I did, even about your hidden pistol or there would've been worse than a bruise there. I kept praying it wouldn't work, that you'd still see through his lie."

"I shoulda. Dadgum, I shoulda. But I was so angry and hurt having to pick up everything, even my pay, I hadta take off. And Heckard Channing got exactly what he wanted."

"Not entirely."

"How so?"

"He didn't get the money, Jess. At least not when he wanted to. The day after you left, strong storms pounded a wide trek across Colorado Territory, some pretty severe with flash floods, hail and I even heard some of the peaks had snowfall. Anyway, the payroll was delayed by the storms and then when the Overland Company started rolling north again, it was found out that a bridge was washed out in the flood and a slide was blocking another route. So the stagecoach that the money was on got stuck in Colorado and instead of being rerouted through Sioux territory, the army decided to wait until the repairs were made. That meant the payment wasn't coming through for another week."

"I reckon that explains why Heckard was following me, then. With nothing else to do, he wanted to make sure I was staying outta his path."

"No, Jess. He was never following you. He was following me."

"I don't get it."

"I went after you, Jess. While the delay initially turned him into a cussing mess, Heckard decided the added week wouldn't be all that bad. He was eating good at the ranch, had a dry place to put his bedroll, so he figured to stay on at the ranch house until the money finally came through. But I had other ideas. I couldn't let you go, Jess. No matter how heavy his threats to me were, I couldn't let you ride away on a lie. So while I feigned bringing in a load of firewood, I snuck into the barn and rode off."

"And he followed."

"Along with that cousin of his. They were both searching for my trail."

Confusion made my head hammer even harder than before. "How come I saw them, but not you?"

"I don't know," Slim answered, his own head in a perplexed shake. "I guess I must've been ahead of you."

"But that ain't possible. If you were following me, you shoulda always been in my shadow."

"Did you make any stops?"

"I did." Dadgum, did I ever. The reality kicking my stomach hard, I felt the strength of my hangover return and threaten to upend my guts all over again. Why'd I been so stupid to get outta control like that?

"What's the matter, Jess?"

"I reckon I let you get ahead of me when I stopped for a drink."

"One drink?"

"If I'd only stopped after the one bottle, it might not've been so bad, except I went in for more. Too much more."

"Oh. So that's what happened."

"Slim, do you realize if I hadn't got myself sopped to the gills, we woulda met up earlier and all of this, whatever this is, woulda never been? Dadgum!"

Slim'd been right. My head wasn't well enough to take all of this in. And now that I'd let anger explode inside of me, the pain was reaching the point where keeling over was the only way to survive the assault. For the last minute or two my eyes've been closed, but true darkness hadn't swallowed me yet. It wasn't gonna hold off much longer. I felt Slim's hands on each side of me, lowering me. Dadgum, there must be something alive enough in my head to remember my last drop, though, because I didn't feel as if I were being set against the cushion of the cot. It was like I was being rolled into a manmade hole all over again.

"Slim," I called out. I tried to anyway. Dunno if I made any sound, but the frantic feeling inside of me was gonna make another attempt before I was pushed over the edge. "Slim!"

My cry came too late. I'd fallen, this time with a much deeper plummet than what happened to me before. The grimace at each corner of my mouth couldn't match the suffering that really came over me as I landed, but then there was nothing. Well, almost nothing. I was left with one thought.

I know I ain't gone. I know I ain't forgotten. But why does it feel like I am?