This is it! The end!
(For now)

I know I said 16 chapters originally, but this just seemed like the natural conclusion for this story.

Enjoy this (now COMPLETE!) story! :)

Chasing Strays Ch 15

"Uh, Slim?"

Jess's voice drifted back, rousing Slim from his dose.

The ride back had been nearly silent. Mike had fallen asleep nearly immediately, safely tucked in the crook of Slim's arm, while Jess led the way toward home. Jess's steady presence was a reminder that they really were alone, that they really were finally safe. Slim's headache had finally started to ease. After a while, lulled by the gentle rocking and comfortable quiet, Slim's head had started to droop.

He'd used up all the energy he had for one day and then some.

Now, only about a mile from the ranch house, Slim sat up straight, stifled a yawn, and readjusted his grip on the pommel. Mike didn't even stir with the jostling.

Jess didn't sound alarmed; his tone wasn't sharp or urgent. He hadn't stopped to listen or drawn his gun, and he hadn't quickened their pace. The set of his shoulders stayed relaxed. Not in danger, then.

"Yeah Jess? What is it?"

Jess twisted his body around in the saddle to look back at the other two, a faint smile on his lips and his brows drawn together. "You get a chance to put a pie in the oven before you left?" he asked.

Slim rolled his eyes. "I was a little busy," he answered slowly. If this was Jess's idea of a joke, Slim sure didn't understand where he was going with it. "I hadn't exactly planned on leaving, you know. Before Willet smashed my skull I was up to my elbows in—,"

Oh. Oh no.

He closed his eyes. He'd been so focused on getting his family home safely, he'd completely forgotten what else was waiting there.

"What, Slim?" Now it was Jess's turn to look confused.

Slim blew out a sigh. "Willet and one of his men showed up on the stage, but they weren't the only ones," he said, "Some eastern lady was on it, too, convinced she'd bought herself a store in Sherman, Wyoming. Showed me the deed and everything."

Jess cocked his head to the side, the golden beams of late afternoon highlighting the incredulous look on his face.

"There ain't no Sherman, Wyoming."

"Don't I know it," Slim muttered. His headache was mounting again. "I told her as much, and the news sent her straight into a faint. Last I saw of her, she was resting in Mike's bed, trying to get over the shock."

"Don't that just beat all," Jess shook his head sadly and turned back toward home. Slim knew he was focusing that direction, beyond their line of sight, searching for something only he could sense.

Slim took another deep breath. "That might not be the worst of it," he said softly, knowing Jess would still hear him. He looked down at Mike's blond head, cradled against his chest. "The judge and Mort should be at the house by now, if they haven't already come and gone. If they got there to find all of us gone and some stranger raving about bandits and guns and kidnapping…" he trailed off as his stomach threatened to revolt again. He pressed his lips into a thin line and looked across to the horizon instead.

Jess slowed to a stop, giving Slim a chance to catch up.

"You said it to me, and now I'm sayin' it to you, Pard. Whatever happens with the judge, we'll handle it. We'll appeal, start a petition, write letters to everyone important," Jess said earnestly. Then he smiled. "Well, you'll write the letters. If I write 'em, they'll never be able to read 'em."

Slim scoffed and shook his head, but he couldn't help but lean into Jess's easy confidence. They nudged their horses forward side by side. Afterall, Slim knew that Jess was right. They'd already talked through several contingencies; they wouldn't let the outcome of this day defeat them.

Mike started to stir, sleepily rubbing his cheek against Slim's shoulder as they rode on.

After a few moments, Jess spoke again.

"What's any of that got to do with apple pie?"

The sincere confusion on Jess's face caught Slim off guard. "Not a dang thing, as far as I can tell," he shrugged.

Mike mumbled something unintelligible.

"What's that, Tiger?"

Mike lifted his head and blinked a few times against afternoon sun. He brought a small fist up and rubbed at his eyes, suddenly looking much younger than he was.

"Miss Daisy promised to make it, after she was feeling better," the boy said, looking first over to Jess and then craning his neck to look up at Slim. "Do you think she really got better that fast?"

Slim raised his eyebrows. As surprising as it was, he had to admit it sounded more plausible than any other explanation. He glanced over at Jess with a thoughtful frown.

Jess, meanwhile, had his head turned slightly to one side, his eyes unfocused. Listening. Slim waited.

"Three people. Mort and two others, a man and a woman."

The judge and Mrs. Cooper.

The judge was still there!

The penny dropped for both of them at the same time.

"Hold on, Mike," Slim said, spurring Alamo forward at the same time Jess urged Traveler into a lope.

-Laramie-

The yard looked perfectly in order as they rode up, despite the chaos of the day. The only noticeable additions were Mort's horse and a rented buggy tied out front. Slim and Jess made their way over to the trough by the corral. Mike swung his leg over the saddle horn immediately, and Slim wasted no time in lifting him down.

"Wash your face, quick now," Slim said, dismounting himself as Mike rushed to do as he was told. Jess was beside him and for the first time, Slim got a good look at his right arm. His eyes widened.

"You call that a scratch?"

Jess waved away the concern, left-handed, Slim noticed. "Can't feel it yet anyway," he said, as if that negated the amount of blood staining his light blue shirt. Slim's headache throbbed. He ducked through the fence and slipped in the side door of the barn for a moment, before reappearing a moment later.

"Unless the judge is blind, you'll need this," Slim said, holding out the spare chore jacket from the barn. It was dirty and had several rips, not to mention the fact that it was too heavy for the weather and Slim's size rather than Jess's, but it was thankfully not covered in blood. Jess grinned sheepishly and tried to hide his wince as he slipped it on.

"Ready!" Mike called. His collar and cuffs were damp, but at least he looked a little cleaner. It would have to do. Slim rolled his shoulders back, took a breath to steady himself, and moved toward the side door.

"Slim, wait!" Jess hissed, rushing up behind him.

"What now?"

"Just," Jess reached up and spun Slim's shoulders back around, so his back was to Jess. "Hold still a minute, would ya," he muttered. Slim could feel Jess clumsily fiddling with his collar and bandana. "Good thing this is already red," he said. "Just try to keep your back to the judge if you can. Looks like Willet broke the skin when he hit ya."

Great.

An unexpected voice called out from the front porch.

"Oh, there you are Mr. Sherman! And Mr. Harper, too, I'm so glad to see you're alright. We were beginning to worry, you know. I was just telling Sheriff Corey and Judge Henry here that you'd gone off in search of Mr. Harper when he didn't come home for lunch; I do hope you aren't hurt, Mr. Harper. What was it? A problem with your horse?"

"Cinch snapped," Jess supplied with his signature lopsided grin, not missing a step, "But I'm alright, ma'am, thanks for asking. That apple pie I can smell?"

Mrs. Daisy Cooper gave them all a warm smile. Genuine relief was plain to see in her expression and posture. "Sure is," she answered, as Mort appeared behind her in the doorway. "You're just in time for supper. C'mon in and get yourself a cup of coffee while I finish setting the table, I'm sure you're tired after such a long day."

"Yes ma'am!" Jess said, following her inside with Mike hot on his heels. Slim went to join them but Mort grabbed his elbow.

Slightly alarmed, Slim halted mid-step and raised an eyebrow. Mort, however, was smiling.

"Aren't you a sly one," he whispered, his eyes twinkling. "Where on Earth did you find her? She's perfect!"

"She just kinda, dropped in, I guess," Slim whispered back with a shrug. Mort shook his head, clearly not buying it, but released Slim's arm. Together they entered the house and Mort introduced him to Judge Henry.

-Laramie-

Supper was a blur. Slim was exhausted, his head hurt, and he was constantly worried the judge would suddenly see through their thin façade and declare them unfit to raise Mike. Any moment, it would all be over.

The moment never came.

Mrs. Cooper's cooking, unsurprisingly, was flawless. Good food always had a way of smoothing the edges of potentially stuffy conversations and that evening was no exception. Mike, much more surprisingly, was putting on a seamless performance as a perfectly polite and charming young man. Slim, half delirious with exhaustion and stress, had to remind himself not to laugh when Mike smiled sweetly up at Jess and thanked him for passing the potatoes.

Get a grip, Sherman.

Through it all, Mrs. Cooper was there, offering seconds, refilling glasses, and serving pie for dessert. Any time the conversation veered into uncertain territory, she was ready with a compliment or a thoughtful question to redirect things. At one point, a few drops of blood made their way past Jess's wrist and onto the tablecloth. Slim thought the game was up for sure, but Mrs. Cooper was ready once again. She swiftly set the butter plate directly over the red splotch while pressing a napkin into Jess's hand at the same time. The judge was none the wiser.

Mort, on the other hand, was sliding side-eyed glances between his young friends before they'd even finished their pre-dinner coffee. He didn't voice his concerns out loud, though, seemingly content to watch and wait. He knew he'd find out what had really gone on soon enough.

When the sheriff and the judge were finally ready to leave, Mrs. Cooper firmly suggested Mike help her with the dishes in the kitchen. The boy went along with a simple "Yes, Miss Daisy," as the rest of the men drifted out to the porch.

"Well, gentlemen, it's been a pleasure," Judge Henry said, after the customary after-dinner compliments and small talk. "I must admit, the dinner accommodations were a notch above what I expected. Mr. Sherman, Mr. Harper, you should both be proud of the home you've built here. You can expect the formal paperwork to arrive by mail in a week or so, but consider this business settled. Until some time as a blood relative of Mike's comes forward, I'm granting you two full custody," he said, as he reached forward to shake Slim's hand. Then he reached for Jess's. Jess's right hand didn't move.

Mort's eyes narrowed again as Jess stammered out a half-hearted excuse about landing on his shoulder when his cinch broke. The judge looked a bit too knowing for Slim's liking, but thankfully, he let it go at that. They both thanked the man for his time and watched as he climbed into his buggy. Mort mounted up.

"Hey, Mort," Slim said, as soon as the judge's buggy turned toward the road. Mort paused. "Tomorrow morning, if you have time," he continued, unsure how to tell the sheriff what he needed to know without the judge overhearing. "You might want to take some deputies up to Mo's cabin."

Mort's face, dimly lit by the lamp on the porch, turned into his customary law-man mask. "Alright," he said, slowly.

Jess chimed in. "Ole Mo said he met a man you've been lookin' for," he said with a wry grin. "Told us he'd keep an eye on 'em 'til you got a chance to get over there. No real hurry, not with Mo on watch."

Mort froze, his lack of reaction a sure sign that he'd understood. Mort was well aware that Mo had been dead for years, and there was only one way that Mo could have "met" someone new. Slim fought not to roll his eyes at Jess's dark humor, but it had been effective.

"I'll head up there when I can," Mort said, a twitch in his jaw, "and I'll be back to see you boys real soon. Take care of yourselves 'til then," he said. Unable to say more under the circumstances, he turned and trotted out of the yard after the judge.

Slim had no doubt that Mort would be on their doorstep at first light, demanding and explanation.

Jess stood by his side there on the porch, neither of them saying a word, as the late evening shadows swallowed the sheriff and the buggy.

"Alright now, you two," came the stern voice of Mrs. Cooper from inside. Slim and Jess looked at each other. "Back inside, let's get you cleaned up and into bed. Mr. Harper, get that shirt off, I imagine the bullet is still in there, yes? And Mr. Sherman, please take a seat. I'll take a look at your head after we get Jess stitched up. Mike, fetch some water, please."

"You hire on a new foreman without tellin' me?" Jess whispered to Slim, listening as Mike darted out the kitchen side door to work the pump.

Slim shrugged helplessly. "If I did, no one told me about it," he whispered back, "but right about now, I'm thankful she's here. I don't know what we'd do without her."

Jess chuckled, the sound warm and welcoming after a very long day. It washed over Slim like the warm evening air.

"You know somethin', pard?"

"What's that?"

"I get the feeling we won't have to worry about that for a long, long time," Jess said, slinging his good arm around Slim's shoulders. Together, they walked through the door and into their new family.

-Laramie-

**Author's Note**

There we have it, folks!
A sincere thank you to everyone who read along, commented, and favorited. I do love hearing from you in the comments, so please take a minute to share your thoughts. This one ended up being a little Slim-heavy in perspective, so hopefully I can string together a more Jess-centric storyline for the next installment. Thanks again, and as always, stay tuned!

See you again soon!