The Last Run
by Patricia Henry
Chapter Two
Mose had been driving the stage since the line first began. If you asked anyone who worked for the Overland Stage Company who a dependable stage driver was, the answer most employees would say would be Mose. As Mose climbed down from the stage seat, he tried to explain why the stage was running so late, but Slim wasn't listening.
"And don't be going inside to get pie. As soon as those horses are changed, I want you out of here. Me and Jess got branding to do! Should've been out on the range long before this."
"Aw, Slim. Jonesy promised that he'd bake a pie for my last run of the day and-"
Jess chuckled as he licked his lips, savoring the taste of the apple pie he had just eaten. Jess politely opened the stage door, greeting, "Inside there's coffee and pie-" the words died in his throat as the sole passenger climbed down from the stage. This man then stood quietly in the yard surveying the cabin and the corral.
Slim glared at Moses. "I don't care what-" He stopped in mid sentence. A grin lit his face. He hadn't smiled in days, but now joy spread across his face like wildfire. "Marshal Barner."
The passenger smiled in return. "Slim, it's been a long time." The man offered his hand.
Slim clasped the man's hand and shook hard.
"How's your Pa?"
Slim's voice showed his sorrow. "He died a few weeks back."
Sadness replaced joy. "I'm sorry to hear that. Matt was a good man. You know he rode on several posses with me when I was chasing outlaws in these parts. Always liked having your Pa ride along. Yes, a mighty good man."
Slim asked, "So, what are you doing in these parts, Marshal?"
"No longer marshal, Slim. Now I'm just Tom Barner. You see, I retired last week."
Slim's eyebrows raised with surprise.
Tom explained, "I'm on my way back East. Plan to live there."
"Wyoming's going to miss a man like you."
The snicker was soft, but Tom heard it. He turned his head and saw Jess, who had not moved from the stage door. Now he was leaning against it staring back at Barner.
"Uh, this here is my ranch hand, Jess Harper," Slim introduced.
"Jess, it's a pleasure." Tom offered his hand.
"Slim, I'll get the horses changed," Jess mumbled ignoring Tom's offer of friendship. He turned his back on Tom and began walking towards the horses.
"Jess!" Slim cried out angrily.
"Jess said there was hot coffee inside," Tom said quickly, still watching Jess. "I sure could use a cup. I've forgotten how dusty stage trips can be."
Slim nodded. "Jonesy will fix you right up."
"Jonesy?" Tom grinned. "That old polecat still alive?" Tom took a few steps towards the cabin and turned towards Slim. He motioned for Slim to join him. Glancing at Jess, he whispered, "That hand of yours. His face looks familiar. Maybe our paths crossed sometime. Which means he might be a man to be leery of. You sure about him?"
Good heartedly, Slim slapped Tom's back. "Jess may be gruff, but he ain't wanted."
Tom nodded but his eyes narrowed to slits as he stared hard at Jess. Finally he turned and headed towards the cabin. Right before he entered the cabin door, his eyes locked once more on Jess. A puzzled look settled on the marshal's face.
