Laramie 1. Chapter 1

Jess Harper looked across the large span of prairie below him one more time before rising from the rock and starting down the steep slope. He watched his footing as rocks and dirt gave out below him, his hands half raised as he kept his balance. His rifle was griped tightly in his hand, and the collar to his blue coat was pulled up close. The winds had picked up once more, and like the wolf, he was hunting, he desired lower warmer ground, out of the wind.

Traveler was left not much further below him, and as he hit one landing he walked for the next, starting down it with the same care he had taken for the other slope. His boots slid down the loose dirt and as the slope was steeper than the last, he paid very close attention to what he was doing. To fall was the last thing he wanted. He grimaced when he lost his balance several times and struggled to stay upright as he slid down the mountain.

Hitting the last few feet, he ran with his momentum. Stopping, he smiled dusting himself off and walking for his ride out of there. The wolf had once again proven slightly cannier than Jess, and Harper, tired of the chase, was done playing this game they seemed to have going.

Smiling he said a word or two to his horse as he walked up. Slim was just on the other side of this canyon back at camp keeping things ready and Jess was tired enough to drink even _his_ coffee. If you didn't think about it, it wasn't so bad, and he was chilled to the bone.

Stuffing his gun in its sheath he blew in his hands before taking Traveler's reins and getting ready to swing up. He lurched, fell against Traveler and slid down his horse before Traveler finally jerked from his limp fingers and took off running. His ears were pricked and the horse was still listening to the echoing boom of a rifle. Blood was streaked down the side Jess had slid, and the smell of it made the horse a tad bit more jumpy.

Harper lay still on the cold ground, the wind howling about him, and big white fluffy flakes started to fall.

The big white flakes were duly noted by Slim Sherman as well and he was ever so happy when he heard the soft tread of a horse. He had started to grow impatient for Jess' return and was thinking about going to have a look for him. Hearing the horse saved him a trip and he sat back at the fire to stay warm. However when he saw the state of Traveler, without the rider, shying away and blood all down his side, he was suddenly mounting Alamo and clopping back the way Traveler had come.

Back tracking the horse was irritating and as the flakes got heavier so did Slims dread for his partner Jess. He called his name several times looking ahead hoping that the trail was coming to an end, but he was never reworded with a reply.

The sun was going down and he could sense it, although he didn't really take any notice of it, for he was rather busy trying to follow the tracks that were quickly filling in and becoming obscured by the snow. He had to eventually dismount and carefully pick them out stopping to call every few feet. When the sun was completely gone he was almost blindly walking hoping that he was sticking to the right course.

It wasn't until his hat was piled high with snow and he was starting to shiver slightly from the cold that his eyes caught hold of a blue jacket and black hat.

"Jess…"

He froze the blood running cold and his legs went to work before his brain did. He scooped him up in his arms simply holding him there a moment. His gloved hands closed tight around Jess' middle and he looked at the blood stain that partially covered the left side of the coat. The low shoulder shot had bled a good deal and Slim noticed that it hadn't come out the front. A good thing in some ways, a very _very _bad thing in others.

"Jess…" Slim mumbled again rubbing his jaw with his hand a moment before he carefully got him up and over to his horse.


	2. Chapter 2

In no time at all, Slim was dusting snow from Harper, while tucking him under the blankets right up close to the fire. Once Jess was as comfortable as possible, Slim had a peak at the bullet wound in his back.

Harper moaned and Slim moved down to his face. An easy, worried smile slipped across his mouth.

"Hey pard." Slim said softly. "You gave me quite a start back in the snow there…"

"S-slim?" his face screwed up in confusion and he moved.

It was slight, every so slight yet it sent him groaning and Slim frowning.

"Just rest easy Jess. You still got the bullet all caught up in your back and I gotta figure a way outta this one, so just rest easy."

Jess nodded slowly and Slim smiled accordingly as the eyes dropped shut and Harper was once more lost to the world of knowing. It was then that the frown fished its way back on Sherman's face and looked as though it was there to stay. The bullet was deep. It was in there very deep, and he had nothing more than his hunting knife and jackknife to use.

The snow was coming down hard and the nearest town was (some number of miles) away. Slim had to make a very quick and calculated decision. He would have to give it a wing himself.

The knife he choice to use was pushed into the hot coals of the fire. He walked to his pack getting the rest of what he desired and came slowly back to Jess. When he was ready, and the bloody hole in the back of a very close friend was looking up at him, there was a very brief pause of hesitation. The knife clutched in his hand, he shifted on his feet. Looking heaven ward into the snow drifting safely pass him, he sent up a small word of grace. There was no hesitation after that. The knife slipped in and out came a sharp groan from Harper, gasping in his unconsciousness.

When he went to squirming some, Slim planted a firm hand on his shoulder as he worked to get the bullet out. It was deep. Maybe too deep. Maybe he should have waited. He was rewarded for his pains when he felt the tip of the knife graze the offending metallic object.

With a rush of blood, a gasping cry from Jess, and a hurried sigh from Slim, the bullet slid out into Sherman's hand and the knife was quickly pulled away replaced with the rags Slim had sitting next to him. He pressed and Jess again cried in pain.

Slim shivered as he finished tying off the bandage. He covered up Harper as best he could and blew into his hands sitting back.

They were shaded from the wind and snow, hidden in a little cleft in the rock. It was cramped with them and the horses close, but it was dry, and at the moment it was the best Slim could offer to Jess.

Black coffee splashed into his cup and he wrapped his hands around it sitting back and watching Jess sleep. His mind started to wander and he scrubbed his face. Now just how had Jess gotten shot anyway? The answer was obvious but it did nothing to tell him why.

Sure Jess had some people who didn't like him, from his _past_ but there was no one Slim knew of in Laramie that would do all this. And no one but Daisy and Mike knew they were coming up here to hunt. Unless of course someone had gotten the information from her…

Slim shook his head and glanced back at Jess groaning in his unrestful sleep. No that just didn't seem right. Not for something like this. But he chose to not rule it out.

His rifle was resting easy in his hands and he slipped up closer to the fire careful not to look directly at it. He had Jess to get home, Mike and Daisy to look in on, and he needed to make sure that everything there way was fine and dandy, just in case the shooter went to make sure Jess was really dead.

Sitting back against the rock wall, Slim looked at the snow falling rather quickly and sighed. Jess groaning and moving caused Slim's eyes to jerk over to him and he was on his feet in a second sitting next to Jess, gently pushing him back.

"Easy Jess…" He said softly. "Take it easy."

"W-what happened?" He groaned.

"Funny," Slim forced up a smile. "I was gonna ask you the same thing."

Jess shook his head exhausted. "D-don't remember."

A worried frown deepened itself across his face as Jess screwed up in pain and gave a short lived groan.

"Rest Jess…" Slim said softly pushing that smile back on. "You have a long day tomorrow."

There was a barely noticeable nod as Jess closed his eyes, dipping off faster than he'd awoke.


	3. Chapter 3

Slim frowned and listened to the wind howl.

The wind, biting through the night and rushing around the cliffs of the canyon, it cut through the rock and sounded like the wolf they had hunted. It pushed it shoved and it scattered the snow into piles brushing clear the high places and piling it up in the lowest of low places. The tops of the tall pines swayed with it and high up on the cliff sat a man, rifle in hand.

His old eyes gleamed down at the hazy gray below, and his heavy coat brushed at his cheeks. His shoes were moccasins and his coat was stitched together fur of a buffalo and a fox around his neck. He had a coonskin cap to cover his thin gray hair and his pants were dear skin. His face had aged and hardened from the punishment of being in the harsh air for too long, and his hands were large and strong from years of hard labor. His eyes were blue, but so very blue they almost looked white, and on his left hand he lacked half a pinky.

The large man stood and turned away from the cliff heading back for the warmth of the fire he had for himself. He put his gun down and pulled off the heavy mittens catching up a cup. Tomorrow he would go and see about the young men troubling his mountain. They had come too close to his secret and he planned to let them return not to their home. He would finish them in the morning.

…..

Slim's head snapped up off his knees and he looked around slightly embarrassed that he had allowed himself to fall asleep. Sitting up he fixed up the fire and warmed the old coffee. Jess groaned softly his hand clenching and unclenching softly as his eyebrows worked up and down.

Slim poured a cup and took a sip looking out over the land of snow and at the very soft purple of the morning sun. They had worked their way fairly high up onto the mountain and it was time to come down. The wolf could have the high ground.

He tossed his coffee aside and rose quickly to get Jess ready. His head snapped suddenly, his body twisted and at the same time he fell crashing for the earth and landing close to the fire as the rifle boomed from the ferns so very close. The old man cursed his horse and his lousy luck and quickly pushed into the clearing. His muzzle just touched Slim's bloodied hair and he brushed it slightly. He had every intentions of pulling the trigger, not it a great hurry to get the job done, but his eyes lifted to the soft groan and he froze solid where he sat.

"Jess…" He whispered. "Jess."

He was off his horse in a minute crouched next to Harper and was peering into his face his hand hovering over his head, afraid to touch him.

"Jess, my boy," he whispered his hand seeping into the thick chocolate brown hair and he gently rubbed the head.

He started to cry as Jess groaned softly and his hands shook as bitterly he looked at his rifle. Walking to his horse he pulled the great bay into the camp area and lifted Jess off the ground. He moved the slighter man with ease, putting him up on the saddle. He was behind him in a moment and his rifle once more turned for Slim, but because he had been nice to Jess, the gun was slowly un-cocked and slid back into a brand new sheath. The aged man looked ahead a moment before he started his horse away slowly from the camp.

….

The sun was high overhead before groggily Slim groaned and his eyes parted. His vision was fuzzy and out of focus, taking him a moment before he could raise off the ground slightly. His hand went to his head and his fingers pushed through his hair until they were stopped by dry blood. He hissed, and gently pulled his hand away struggling to rise. He got one knee under himself and then another before his eyes darted across the camp.

His mouth dropped flabbergasted.

"Jess?" He hollered and winced cradling his head. Yelling was defiantly out.

Determination struck and he put his feet under himself, blanking a moment when his wobbly legs finally stood. He chanced opening his eyes and found himself looking at the lazy sun. Pain shot through his head and with a groan he fell once more to the blessed darkness lingering about.

….

Jefferson Tilbit, pulled Harper slowly from the saddle and carried him gently into the house cradling him lovingly in his arms. He watched his boy sleep a moment before he took him inside the house and laid him with care in his bed. His hands once more ran through Jess' hair and he smiled fondly at him going to fetch a pan of water and a rag to battle the raging fever.

His talked softly to Harper as he worked telling him of the years missed between them, and how he thought the war had captured his boy. His boy Jess. Then his lips quivered and he brought himself close to tears when he apologized for nearly killing Jess himself. He promised to make him better and he promised things would be right between them, making sure to do everything possible to insure their time together.

The sun sank low and he lit a candle going to the fire to get a plate of beans, when Jess stirred.

"S-slim…?" he slurred, his head rolling and his eyes hazily looking around confused.

"Jess?" The old man dropped in front of him and took his hand. "Jess, my boy." He smiled. "Jess."

Harper frowned and looked away. A million questions flooded his head at once, but he was exhausted and it hurt to talk, so he chose the one he found to be the most important.

"W-where's… Slimm…?" He mumbled, and Jefferson frowned.

"He's gone boy, I sent him home. It's just you and me now. Just you and me."

"No…" Jess rolled his head with a huff.

He never finished his thought however for it was simply too much work and as he struggled to speak Tilbit softly stroked his head trying to calm him.


	4. Chapter 4

With the ground panning out in all directions and his horse mostly taking to his own path, Slim swayed on his mount trying to make sense of the ground below him. It was cold and his fingers were stiff. There was no real good place to stop and he couldn't seem to keep his brain focused on one thing long enough to really try to find a spot to stop either. It was a bad position to be in and searching for his lost partner in this weather was a bad idea. After all he had no real clue where Jess was as his mind left him little room to think about anything else other than his aching head.

What he needed to do was turn around and head for home, it was the safest and smartest idea, yet the thought of giving up scared him. Really there was only one thing that could have happened to Jess that made sense to Slim and it didn't really make sense.

Why would the shooter take Jess? It was the only logical explanation to what had happened to him, yet Slim couldn't understand why he would do that. Trying to kill him, then coming and taking him was crazy… Yet that apparently was what happened so…

Slim couldn't give up because there was surely nothing good about the person coming and taking Jess. Harper had to be in big trouble and Slim just couldn't… But his head hurt so bad, he was slowly losing the energy he had and if he wasn't careful he would freeze to death. Back down the mountain he needed to go.

But Jess…

His head dipped too far forward and into a large pile of snow he fell. It puffed up all around him and landed gently, as Slim with a groan, turned his head and fell asleep.

….

With the sun shining too cozily through the frosted cabin window, Jess found it in his best interests to leave. He wasn't well, but was most certainly feeling better. At least he could think straight… well mostly straight, and so when the old man left to tend to his horse Jess Slowly sat up.

It was perhaps one of the worst decisions he had ever made. With a very heavy groan he laid back down struggling to catch his breath. That had hurt, and by his face you could gather as much. It finally smoothed out, and he perhaps regained some of his color before he tried it again. However, his previous break had been much longer than Jess had known and as he was finally grasping a victory at being able to sit… well not really sit but…. Roll, perhaps, over, the door opened with wind and snow and the old man spotted Jess almost instantly. Over to him he hurried laying him back and his face was a perplexed frown.

"Jess, my boy, whatha trying to get up for? Just lay back take it easy."

And so he helped Jess lay down again running a hand over his head and Jess winced and groaned and hurrying to get him some water. That pushed down his throat, Tilbit moved to take off his coat and hat.

"Slim…" Jess muttered again catching his breath and forcing his eyes to focus. "Please…"

The old man turned with a frown and he came back over taking his seat on the stool and caught Jess' hand.

"I must… get… get back to Slim…" From the look the old man was giving him Jess gather he wasn't quite getting through. "You sent him home…I think… but he will come… please…?"

"But Jess, my boy…"

Jess shook his head frustrated closing his eyes and meekly tugged his hand away, it didn't come.

"I don't know who you are…" Jess snapped as must of a snap as he could make. "And my partner…"

"Jess… But I'm you father don't you remember?"

Harper's eyes came wide at that and in shock he looked at the man. He said he was his _what_?

Jefferson's troubled eyes became soft and understanding.

"Of course you did leave a long time ago. I was much younger then…" he smiled. "We have a lot to catch up on boy." He went to stroking his head but Jess pulled away.

"My father is dead…" Jess muttered.

"Dead?" that same troubled look crossed Jefferson's face before again it was replaced his happy understanding. "Is that what you thought boy? That I was dead? All these years keeping away because you thought I was dead?" he chuckled softly. "Why boy―"

"I'm not your boy…" Jess grumbled and again jerked away, however, that time it was slightly too feisty and his eyes pressed in pain as he moaned and the old man went back to stroking his head.

"It's alright Jess. Me and you, we'll figure it out."

Frustrated Jess shook his head, but his last jerk had cost him dearly and there was nothing more that he could to but gently toss his head around trying to avoid Jefferson's hand.

….

The fire crack and the wind turned the braches. His horse whinnied and Slim snapped awake. In and out the fire went as his eyes tried to focus on it.

"Ohh…" he moaned as he sat up. His head disappeared behind his hands and for some moments all you could hear from him was very heavy breathing.

Again his horse whinnied and Slim side looking about.

"I'm coming," he whispered.

It hurt. By golly did his head hurt. The earth took a dip and a turn, the room grew fuzzy. The fire was so nice and warm. It had cost him so much to struggle with making it he only wanted to rest…

Alamos' nose nudged him, not too hard, but it wasn't too soft and Slim snapped awake again.

"Alright boy." He sighed and drug himself to his feet again.


	5. Chapter 5

Wouldn't it have been so grand if he could have found a way to get to his feet? And wouldn't it have been amazing if Tilbit was actually there to help him and not keep him prisoner in the cabin.

Neither was true, Jess knew. He understood neither was true and as his _father_ tried to press his affections on him, Jess grew irritated. Mostly he had spent his days… or day he never was quite sure… in a very deep troubled sleep. Bu every time he came awake there was Tilbit hovering over his face. He'd grin almost always, in the most annoying way, and proceed to talk to Jess for hours on end about things Jess neither understood nor cared about.

When he got his chance to speak he would groan about Slim, trying to get his torturer to understand that his partner really needed him. Jefferson ignored him. Would continue to ignore him and the longer it went on…

Harper hit him. It wasn't as hard as Jess had wanted, and the moment he did it he regretted it. But not because Tilbit fell from his stool, (more out of shock then anything), hitting his head. No that actually brought some amount of pleasure. However, it brought a great deal of pain, and he had jerked himself up to hit him, falling back on his shoulder, half out of bed.

It was a very awkward position, and Jess squeezed closed his eyes striving to pull his other arm out from under him. He had gone with the swing of his arm when hitting Jefferson, but hadn't had the strength to stop so…

Tilbit uttered and oath rubbing his chin. His eyes flashed with a crazed anger and he filled his big hands with the font of Jess' shirt slamming him against the wall. Jess cried in pain his head flopping lazily forward as limply he tugged at Tilbit's sleeve.

"What's gotten into you, boy?" Tilbit snapped bitterly, and jerked Jess about so his head would flop up.

"You're looking at the wrong boy." Jess snapped in return, pushing away at Jefferson. "And I'm not staying to fulfill your fantasy filled dream."

That look again. The look he had seen cross Tilbit's face a hundred times since being there, slammed across the old man's face again.

"Don't talk so Jess…" he whispered. "What's gotten into you…?"

"That's about the only thing you have right!" Jess continued, still fighting Tilbit. "And the second I can walk, I'll disappear so fast you won't be able to keep your head from swimming!"

From a slow lost look, to anger, Tilbit faded. In a second he was dragging Jess for the door and to the howling wind. Through the snow and dirt he drug to the barn and across the floor.

Stunned Harper couldn't get his brain to work fast enough. It was too late, by the time he got his mind to stop exploding in pain, and his legs to actually move again, he was trussed up like a hog and tossed in an empty stall.

"You ain't never leavin' me boy. You ain't never goin' nowhere again." He shook Jess heartily, rattling what sense was left and pushed him back. Shaking his head Jefferson rose looking down at _his boy_.

Jess shivered from head to toe. Not with cold, although he was sure it would set in soon, but pain. He knew the hole had opened again and had started to bleed, he could feel the blood roll slowly down his back.

"Crazy boy." Jefferson mumbled rubbing a hand over his face. "Always did have a mind of your own."

Wearily, he slip/stumbled from the room, walking on legs that seemed made of jelly. The barn door opened letting in a flood of a freezing wind and closed blocking out most of the snow.

Jess shivered as it opened and pulled himself into a ball when it closed. For moments he lay there shivering biting his lip and struggling to get it together. The next he was kicking out with his tied legs and rolling onto his back, letting out and cry of pain, anger, irritation and total defeat.

Rolling onto his side he laughed bitterly as water ran from his eyes.

"Right now would be a good time for you to show up, pard…" His face screwed up and he leaning into the ground. "I'd…" slowly his breath huffed from his lips and his eyes grew hazy. "I'd even forgo the teasin'…"

His eyes closed exhausted and Jess gave to the feel of defeat, letting his mind drift away. Away to happier days, to greener pastures and to Slim, Daisy and Mike. They'd never forget to come back for him… not ever.

….

Slim Sherman shuddered. His eyes flew open and went in and out as he tried to focus on the fire. His head lifted off his saddle, his cockeyed hat slipping to the ground with his blanket falling away. He rubbed his eyes, carefully ran a hand over his head and stood, using his rifle as a support.

With the same hazy look in his blue eyes as the day before, he walked from the cave reins in hand and paused to blink at the blinding sun. He had slept half the day away. Half the day gone. Angry with himself he stepped into a stirrup and after a struggle swung into it.

"Whoa boy," he whispered softly, and slid his rifle into its sheath.

He had completely lost the trail, the wind blowing out his own tracks from the night before. With a sigh he turned Alamo in the general direction he had been ridding earlier and headed off. Stubborn.

In the saddle he rode for a while, and then slipped form it and walked for a while giving Alamo a rest and picking out a better trail. He thought he had once caught the scent of wood smoke dancing on the wind, and legs turned that way. Could have been anything, could have been nothing, but Jess needed him, and that was all Slim needed to keep going. Besides, no one, but a crazy person, would be up in this country at this time of year.


	6. Chapter 6

Mort Cory cocked his head, tightened his grip on the reins and looked up at the sky. This was his second time riding out to the Sherman ranch. He didn't like to play favorites but… He sighed and shook his head. If those boys only understood how much they meant to him. Sure they could be a pain in the neck and Jess could be a sorehead, but he had never known persons more loyal, ready to have your back, than Slim Sherman and Jess Harper. He was going to be hanged before he would let two of them just disappear up into the hills, gone for good.

Daisy was worried sick, but she had tried to hide it away behind a light voice and friendly smile. But Mort knew, you could see it around the edges of her eyes, and anytime anyone came up to the house her head turned and wistfully she looked for her boys.

She was actually heading back to the house when he rode up, a basket of eggs under her arms and she paused when she heard him coming. She smiled at his familiar figure and continued on her walk until she was about on the porch.

"Hello Mort," she greeted in a less formally manner that morning, watching as he got down.

"Daisy." His head bobbed and he came to face her, a soft smile spreading across his face. "Heard from Slim or Jess yet?" He didn't want it to come out so hurriedly yet he couldn't stop himself from asking.

Daisy smiled a sad brave smile and looked at her eggs. "Not yet."

Mort's head dropped some but for her he lifted it again quickly and smiled. "I'm sure they'll be back soon."

Daisy nodded but her eyes drifted off in the direction the two had set off in, some days ago.

Mort flicked a looked and sighed inwardly. "I was thinking…" He started slowly and paused a moment to consider what he had to say.

A wind was picking up and Daisy pulled her coat a bit closer.

"I was thinking about taking a ride up myself…"

"In this weather?" Daisy demanded. "Why Mort Cory I wouldn't hear of such a thing! They'll be back soon. No sense in you going up into the high country and getting yourself lost as well." Again Daisy looked off, and Mort's smile faded to a wince.

Daisy had been trying to reassure him as much as herself. However, Mort knew, he could tell that she had pricked up at his idea to go and have a look.

"Now Daisy," He started with another smile, becoming resolved at his own decision. "I'm not going up to get lost. I just thought I'd ride up and have a look. Jess told me where him and Slim where thinking about camping out, and I think I'll ride up and have a look."

Daisy could sense the finality in his voice as he turn and mounted and it settled her nerves some.

"Be careful Mort." She took a step for him, putting down her basket, as he mounted. "I wouldn't want to have to worry about you too."

The sheriff smile. "Now Daisy, I'll be back soon, don't you worry non about me."

He smiled tipped his hat and turned hurrying off as Daisy stood and watched him go.

"God's speed." She whispered softly then turned took up her basket once more and went into the house.

Mort cantered his horse for a bit until he hit the bottom of the foot hills, then slowly walked it up. If those two would take better care of themselves… He shook his head. If only they wouldn't get into so much mischief or trouble, he wouldn't worry so. Well not as much… and he probably wouldn't have been doing anything so rash.

The trail was heavier the further up he got and soon he was walking his horse fighting with snow. It didn't look too promising on finding anything and if the two of them were still up here… Mort shook his head, he was also in a bowl and the wind couldn't reach it as well. With luck the trails further up would be brushed clean and he could find his way better.

They were indeed clearer, as Slim had found. In fact in some places the wind had blown it so clean you could see the ground and pass without trouble. It also meant drifts, but as they had yet to prove a problem Slim cared nothing for them.

His fogged head was finding it harder and harder to concentrate on what he needed. The headache had never gotten better only worse and with each foot fall he grew colder and more ready to just lay down. The faint whiff of smoke that had perked his spirts before seemed to twang as he stumbled on.

But then suddenly he broke a clearing and there it was. A cabin with a small barn and shed. Smoke rose from the chimney and a horse whinnied in the barn. Slim stopped taking it all in. He couldn't believe it! He had actually made it and it was _so_ close. Just through a slight valley and over a hill and he was there!

His head dipped and he sighed so very heavily. He was pasted tired and done with walking. Whatever trouble lay ahead of him needed to happen and needed to happen soon, before he was no use to anyone.

His hand slipped around his Colt, and fingered the weapon but a moment. His eyes then slipped to the Winchester before pulling himself onto Alamo with a groan and a hand that shot to his head. He wouldn't have been admitted it to the world, but he was starting to not see so good…

….

Tilbit pushed Jess into the dirt with one very firm hand and his other peeled away the blood soaked shirt. Jess groaned at the same time Jefferson muttered an oath and reached for a rag. Again Harper groaned, his fevered eyes opening only slightly and Tilbet brought the dull pain to a numbing throb.


	7. Chapter 7

He'd suffered a relapse and couldn't find the strength to fight the old man. His heavy eyes rolled behind his heavy eyelids and he limply moved his fingers deeper into the loose straw with pain. Tilbit was trying to help, yes, but he was a big man with big hands, and gentle was probably not in his vocabulary.

But his shoulder needed re-patched and after he was done Jefferson smoothly rolled him over and brushed some of the straw from his hair.

"C'mon boy, let's get you in the house," he whispered, and scooped him up.

Jess moaned, but fell back into his arms anyway. He'd lost a lot of blood the night before, and yeah… relapse.

It was cold out in the air, and the sun was sharp and bright. Harper shivered shielding away as his sensitive ears pricked at each sound.

A horse whinnied.

Not from the barn either. It was soft and gentle and came from the front of Tiblit. Jess opened his eyes. He knew the sound…?

Tilbit swore suddenly and Jess moved his head about to look. Yes there was defiantly a horse and a rider coming up the slope their way. With the sun and snow they probably couldn't see them, but Jess could see him.

Slim.

Suddenly he was wide awake and perfectly perched. He opened his mouth to holler a warning, but they had just reached the house and Tilbit, using Jess to push the door open, took his breath away. The door snapped shut and Tibit got his rifle walking to the window he flicked aside the curtain and waited.

Nothing happened and no one came. The old man frowned.

"Where'd he go…?" He mumbled to himself.

Jess squirmed from the bed silently, and was moving for another gun. Jefferson's handgun. It was laying low and he thought if he could just make it…

An exclamation met his ears and Jess' brain exploded as the butt of the rifle connected with his shoulder hard. He cried with pain slipping off as Tilbit's head jerked with the whinny of a horse. It'd come from the barn, and Jefferson smiled.

"Canny…" he mumbled, and propped the door open just wide enough to peek out.

The wind created dust devils of snow in the space between the door and the bar, and the wind howled gaining speed as the sun got higher. Nothing stirred and Jefferson grew impatiently worried. Where had the rider gone?

Slowly the door opened wide with a creak, and the bigger man stepped onto the porch. The land was still and Tilbit saw nothing, his back plastered to the wall of his cabin.

_BANG_

The barn door slammed closed and whipped open slamming closed again. Tilbit smiled and dipped across the yard for it, taking care to move with speed and caution. He zipped inside the barn and ducked as a bullet smashed off the doorframe.

Behind a stall he went and waited while it grew silent again.

"_Boy_?" Tilbit hollered, testing the waters.

A bullet chipped the wood not far from him and he rolled moving away with an exclamation. He wanted to sneak around and get behind him, but in his position he was pinned. He swore again, trying to figure if he had a shot at all, when the barn door opened and Jess stumbled in. Tilbit smiled.

"_Jess_!" Slim snapped at the same moment Tilbit lunged from his hiding spot and wrapped his arm around Harper's neck.

There wasn't a clear shot, and Tilbit knew it. Judging by the tone of voice, the shooter wouldn't risk it either.

"Throw out your rifle…" Tilbit demanded from the dark shape in the far back of the barn.

There was a pause and Tilbit squeezed harder. Jess coughed groaned and suddenly a rifle was thrown to the ground.

Tilbit smiled. "Now raise your hands high where I can see them, and come out here."

The muzzle of his rifle followed Sherman as he slowly came forward, hands high. Jess was dropped, with a groan and a cough, and Tilbit moved to Slim taking his Colt. He smiled up at angry blue eyes a moment before, without warning, slammed Slim in the gut with his rifle butt and stood over a suddenly gasping Sherman.

The pain that radiated from Slim's abdomen was nothing compared to the pain that exploded in his head. He groaned coughed and wrapped his hands around his middle as his eyes squeezed, trying to calm his head.

Tilbit glared at him his eyes filling with anger.

"I let you go, boy," he snapped. "Why did you have to follow me?"

He spat each word out with venom and in a second he had kicked Slim back the other way, approaching him with a hard set face.

"Guess I should have finished you back there…"

His gun came up as Slim squeezed his eyes at the pain flooding his brain.

"_Stop!_" Jess groaned from the floor, trying to get up. "I don't know who you are. I don't know what this is all about or what this has been about. But don't shoot him."

Tilbit's head slowly turned and he frowned softly at Jess still struggling to raise himself from the floor.

"Jess…" He whispered so softly, the color draining from his face. Slowly, so slowly he made his way back to Harper and laid a hand on his head. "Jess…?" he breathed.

There was something so soft, so caring about the man. His hands slid to help Jess up, and so thoughtfully, he set him back against a few grain bags and slipped his giant coat around him.

"Jess…" His eyes seemed to rim with tears. "Look at you…"

Harper sighed. "Look… Mister…" he paused lacking the name.

Protests and all sorts of remarks surfaced in his brain, and in the short pause Jess took, he weeded through all options. Trying to find the one that would get them both out of there alive.

"Gone for so long…" Tilbit whispered before Jess could carry on. "Look at you…"


	8. Chapter 8

The sound of all of that was strange to Slim… strange was an easy way to put it. He sat up with a groan and brought his head to focus.

"Mister…" he moaned, bring the anger back into the others face. "Harper I'm pretty sure ain't no kin of yours."

That drug Tilbit to his feet and over to Slim.

"Tilbit, boy," he sputtered, bring a frown to Slim's face. "The name's Tilbit, and don't you forget it."

He looked as though he might throw a punch or kick him or something, and Slim very quickly got ready for a fight, but nothing happened and the barn seemed to ease up.

"Jesse Thorn Tilbit. Thorn for his grandfather." His eyes drifted to Jess with a strange loving sort of glow, that didn't seem like it really was for Jess. "Mother died early on, and I brought him out here after the war broke out. Weren't no sense in staying up in the hills of Kentucky, all the kin had died or moved on anyway. He was just a boy then, no older than sixteen itching to get into the war, but I needed him…"

His voice trailed off as his feet shuffled around the barn a moment and Slim and Jess exchanged a look. Tilbit went and lowered himself before Jess, his hand just lightly touching his cheek. Jess moved back and Jefferson drew his hand away.

"I needed you boy. With your mother gone, and the kin all gone…" he sighed, his eyes closing with pain. "I couldn't lose you too." Tilbet's hand landed on Jess' knee and his head moved about as he fought away the tears. "But you were bent on going, bent on fighting some darned war that wasn't your own. Bent on gettin' yourself killed…" His voice softened and he stood looking around the barn. "One day you ran off. Took my best mare and that huntin' rifle of yourn and was gone."

His eyes landed on Slim's rifle and stooping he picked it up, looking from Slim to Jess. They finally settled on Sherman and grew cold as ice.

"Here to take away what ain't yours, here to take away all that's mine, you Yankees are all the same. Took my boy and my kin. The very last thin's I had and love…" his voice caught. "Well this here is one fight you won't win!" The rifle was just as suddenly brought up to his shoulder and his finger wrapped around the trigger.

"_No_!"

Jess lunged, the rifle thundered and Tilbit hit the ground with a thud. Slim bolted and Jefferson snapped Jess off with a struggle. A hand curled around the cool butt of a Colt, and Jefferson brought his finger around the trigger again…

It sounded liked there had been an echo. The rifle sounded first and the Colt sounded only seconds later. Tilbit froze looking at his shot. Jess Harper lay flat on his back, staring up at the roof top, and Slim swayed to his knees.

"Slim…!" Harper groaned, pushing himself up and trying to make it over to his partner.

"I'm alright, Jess…" Slim mumble, and his gun pointed to Tilbit before slipping from his hands as he fell to the floor.

Tilbit's hand was pressed against his chest, blood seeping through his shirt. He was still sitting upright with the rifle clutched in his hand, but all the hate had drained from his eyes. He gave a half cry as Jess returned to him, and gripped Harper's arm as he slowly fell to the floor.

"He died…" Tilbit whispered.

A frown crossed Harper's face as his eyes darted back to Slim and then to Jefferson.

"Take it easy, old man," Jess mumbled softly as Tilbit coughed, choked.

"No…" he sputtered. "Jesse, my boy, he died, battle of Gettysburg…." A small whimper passed through his lips and he struggled with pain. "He was so…"

"Easy…" Jess urged softly, knowing the time was soon.

"I'm sorry…" Tilbit whispered. "I'm sorr'…"

Jess flicked a half smile of his, eyes darting back to Slim.

"There is…" Jefferson gripped at Jess with surprising strength capturing his attention. "A box, over in the stall yonder. Under the straw. Take it… Take it…"

His bloodied hand dug into his pocket and out came a key. It was pressed into Jess' hand and Tilbit smiled lightly.

"You are so much like him…" His hand swept Harper's face leaving a streak of blood. "So much like him…"

His eyes grew still and his hand slipped away. The soft smile was frozen on his face, and his hand fell to Jess' shoulder. The last little bit of air pushed pasted his lips, and grimly Jess took the hand folding it over Tilbit.

War did funny things to a great many people, and somehow Jess couldn't bring himself to be angry with the man. No he actually felt great pity. There had been something so very kind about Jefferson Tilbit, and if he hadn't lost his son, maybe things would have been very different for this old man on the mountain. War did a great many things to a great many people, and Jess had never known very many of them to be nice.

Slim's groan brought his head around, and that time, like it or not, he was coming over.

"Dead?" Slim moaned, as Jess lightly touched cupped his hand round the back of Sherman's head to get a look at the bloody patch on the side.

"Yeah…" he answered softly. The pain and sorrow was creeping into his voice as exhaustion took his life away. But there was Slim to look after. Only then…

"Where you hit…?" He mumbled looking down the length of the tall rancher.

" 'm fine." Slim mumbled and struggled up.

Whether he really was or not, Jess never found out. Swaying dangerously he landed into Slim's arms and didn't remember the rest as the world got warm and black, and his partner's hands had him. It didn't really matter…

Slim sighed, the weight falling on him, and he caught it with a troubled ease. Rising, Jess was put on a bed in the house and after a moment or two of Slim's attention was left to sleep.

There was the matter of a grave to be dug, and a body to be buried. The ground would be hard as rock, and covered in snow. But there was a body, and it needed to go somewhere. He was out until the sunset taking care of it, and finally finished carving into a tree the date of death. He had no year of birth, but after a bit of investigation, he had a full name, and year of death. With a very tired sighed he stumbled for the house, eyes focusing in and out, and the headache of his hurting to the point of passing out. He stumbled into the cabin and fell into a chair next to the merry fire. Jess still slept and Slim rested his head back with a sigh. Tomorrow he would start them for home. But tomorrow presented a whole new set of problems Slim couldn't will himself to consider…


	9. End

Stubborn. He was flat out stubborn, and although it had softened over the years, or perhaps lessened to more reason, he was still hot headedly stubborn and was going to be until the day he died. It was a Sherman thing and nothing was going to change that. Jess wouldn't have wanted it to change either, except when it came to the times Slim was going to get himself killed.

Harper had come out of his sleep earlier the next day, and as he had managed to come awake silently he was able to sit, observing the day for a bit. It was mostly Slim he observed. The patch he had over his head wound was crimson with blood, and Jess could have been wrong, but it looked like the blood was new, and not several days old. It was a stark contrast to the pale face, and even though Slim was asleep, in the rocker by the fire, he looked completely exhausted.

With a sigh Harper moved and couldn't stop the groan that pushed passed his lips and rolled around the room. That had hurt like…

Slim moaned and quickly Jess forgot his troubles, eyes shooting to his partner. He hadn't meant too wake him.

Sherman rolled a hand over his eyes and seconds later he was blinking slowly trying to bring them to focus. It disturbed Jess how long it took Slim to get his eyes to focus and bring them around to him.

"Hey, pard…" Jess whispered softly.

"Jess…" Slim stood slowly, his movements pained and came to Jess slipping a hand on his head. "You still have that fever." He frowned.

Jess shrugged. "I'm fine…"

That awarded him a look that Jess couldn't bring himself to stare down, which of course irritated him for it proved Slim's point that much more.

Slim moved about the cabin and Jess' eyes slipped closed. He couldn't get up even if he had wanted to and he didn't really want to try with Slim hovering about.

There was a lot of clatter as Slim moved a bunch of plates around but at last he stopped coming back to Jess and attempted to give him something to eat. It didn't go very far and in the end Slim gave up. He went outside for a long bit and that was when Jess tried to move again. He got nowhere and nothing for the great pain it caused him.

"Jess Harper!" Slim snapped his hands sliding over his partner steading him into the bed again.

Jess groaned, Slim sighed.

"I don't fancy taking you down like this, but I don't want to get snowed in. It looks like it's fixing to snow though so if we don't leave now…" Slim had said it all like a question, but there really wasn't one. They were heading back that day.

When Harper offered no comment, nothing really more than a nod of agreement, Slim moved and scooped him up. That got Jess to protesting but there was no hesitation and no stopping Slim. Out to the barn they went and Slim put Jess up on Traveler grabbing the reigns. Alamo was behind and there were getting ready to set off.

"Wait…" Jess moaned hanging onto the saddle with all he had. "Over in the straw, Tilbit said to take it…" He slipped Slim the key and for a second Slim stood staring at Jess. "Please," Harper whispered.

Slim wiggled his jaw and with one last look at the very determined Jess, Slim moved to the location indicated, pushing around in the straw. It took a bit of digging but he finally kicked upon a heavy tin box that he slowly dusted off. It was old and used with the green paint mostly gone. "Jefferson Tilbit" was molded into the lid, and Slim slipped in the key, flipping it open.

Gold, it was full of gold coins and by the weight and size Slim judged there had to be close to five hundred dollars. For a moment he sat astounded, then pulled it over to Jess at his inquiry. They both shared a look before the treasure was slipped into a bag and Slim finally set out.

It was sunny, but with a bitter wind, and Slim tucked his head, bowing into the wind. Leaving the cabin and small barn all to itself high up on the mountain.

….

Mort looked at the very last camp site he could find and sighed. Rising from his hunches he played with his horse's reins a moment before turning and mounting. He hated going back down the hill empty handed but… There was nothing that he could find from that point on. Blood in the snow had caused him to press further into his digging but nothing could be found to lead him to Slim or Jess.

It confused him that they had traveled deeper into the hills and didn't return down. Only heightening his desire to find them, knowing they had to be in trouble. But getting himself stuck up in the hills would help no one. So as he descended, with great regret, he prayed that they were safe.

The wind was staring to pick up and Mort pulled his coat slightly tighter about himself. The sound of a horse whinnying caught his attention and sharply his head turned. Through the blowing snow and late sun he saw nothing. Pulling his coat once more closer he turned to start off again.

The horse whinnied and his own mount pricked its ears starting a soft reply. Mort turned and that time he sat and looked for a few moments.

From the curling wisps of silver snow, a man appeared. Head ducked and leading a horse he stumbled and fell getting up again with trouble and going on. In the saddle a man swayed dangerously to both sides head flopping all about. It didn't take Mort a second thought. He turned his horse around and spurred him around just as Slim faltered and fell.

"Of all the…" Mort dropped to him collecting him in his arms and Slim protested and groaned softly. Only slightly conscious. Mort chided him softly but soundly as his eyes slid to Jess. His face sunk as his words once more echoed with a much deeper edge to them that time:

"Of all the…"

…

Standing on the porch, Daisy held a pail in one hand, staring off in the direction Mort had taken. She was lost in gloomy thoughts, as she was every morning lately, and couldn't help but linger. Looking off for her boys she couldn't stop the troubling, sickening worry that filled her continuously.

She sighed at the sound of Mike coming from the barn and turned for the house. The latch fell into her hand and she entered shivering at the chill and loving the warmth. Going to the kitchen, she took her pail of milk setting it on the table and turned to breakfast.

"_Daisy_!" Mike hollered. "_Daisy_! _Daisy_!" He burst through the door and tugged at her hand as she turned to him frowning with concern.

"Why Mike, what is it…?"

Her voice trailed off as she looked to where Mike was pointing out the open door, and hardly heard his answer.

"Look! It's Slim and Jess…! Mort, he found them!"

Daisy's face flooded with joy and tears as she hugged Mike close seconds before he could bolt away and run to the incoming horses.

So it was. Her boys, back from their adventure. They both looked banged up from where she stood, and the smile slipped away to a frown as she grabbed her heavy wool shawl and ran out to meet them. But the joy at their return never left her eyes.


End file.

Laramie, Hurt-Comfort