Chapter Thirteen

Jess pulled Traveler to a halt on the rise above the ranch house, the scene below him as dusk was settling in was completely calm. If he hadn't been convinced the house, barn, or everything on the property was to be the arsonist's next target, Jess might have turned his mount around and headed back to town. But Jess would not be satisfied with one single look.

He led his mount slowly down the slope, his eyes watching everywhere for movement or anything out of place, and at first, he deemed everything that was meeting his gaze was normal, until he saw a flicker of light. A chair that always sat welcomingly on the porch suddenly burst into flames and in the darkening shadows, Jess saw a pair of hands shove it against the front door. Jess leapt from Traveler's back, his adrenaline pumping with every ounce of courage that he possessed and he ran to the porch, kicking the chair into the dirt in front of the house where it could burn down to nothingness. This action wasn't enough to stop the fury as the flames had already attached themselves to the front door and were climbing up to the window at a rapid pace. Jess turned, just as somewhere inside of the house Mike screamed. This was where it could have all ended if fear took control.

The fire knew nothing about a man's inner turmoil, or how loudly a child screamed, or that if it continued its menacing climb, it could destroy a home and cause more than one gruesome death. The fire only knew its power, but there was a man that knew this fire and he had a surprising amount of power of his own. And Jess was ready to use it.

When Mike's scream filled Jess' ears, there were no flashbacks, no pulsating reminders in his temples, and no traumatizing fears from his childhood clutching his chest. He felt his blood pumping through his veins almost as hot as the fire that clawed at the front door. Jess ran, his hands finding a bucket of water alongside of the trough and returned, drenching the door with its contents. The water sizzled against the flames and dripped onto the front porch and then with one swift motion, Jess' coat was stripped from his body, using it to beat the remaining flames down to nothingness.

The door was gone, but not a mark of fire could be seen on the inside as Jess burst through its opening. For a moment all he knew was joy when he saw Daisy and Mike huddled together by the dinner table, but then he heard the crackle of flames roar up once more. Turning quickly, Jess expected to see the fire coming from behind him, but the porch was dark and quiet. When a shrill gasp escaped through Daisy's mouth, Jess raced into the kitchen just as the window on the kitchen door exploded, not only glass falling to the floor, but angry red embers ready to light everything they touched.

Jess' feet were stamping the tiny flames faster than they could gather strength. A pot of water sat on the stove and with a firm hand around the handle, he flung the water onto the door, dousing the flames that tried to jump through the broken window. He kicked the door hard enough that it flung from its hinges and out into the dirt, watching until the remaining flames were a mere flicker on the ground.

He walked back inside and Jess was immediately embraced with two tight hugs. Daisy clung to him with muted sobs, but Mike wept openly as he stuck himself solidly to Jess' leg. Jess wished he could have stayed in this position for longer than the few moments that it was, but knowing that the arsonist could still be outside ready to strike again at any second, he pulled away from their shaking arms.

"Oh, Jess," Daisy quivered as she spoke, "it all happened so fast. I was so scared!"

"I know, Daisy," Jess kept his eyes moving from one end of the house to the other to assure there were no new fires being lit around the house. "Where's Slim?" Jess asked, his ears taking instant notice that the sound of his voice rang with its normal, firm tones.

"I don't know," Daisy shook her head as she drew Mike close to her side and began wiping the boy's wet cheeks. "He should have been in by now, but he said he had so much work to do."

As Daisy finished speaking, Jess turned his head and looked through the window and saw an outline of a man. It wasn't staring at him with a cold, sinister look, it wasn't even laughing. There wasn't even a face at all to trigger Frank Bannister's ugly memory. The figure outside was stealthily moving towards the barn and Jess knew then where the next sparks would fly. If the barn would become fully involved, a raging fire that size could spread to every building and nothing would be left standing.

With a command for Daisy and Mike to stay put, Jess ran through the open doorway with gun in his hand, his eyes searching everywhere for where the arsonist was poised. It was absolutely imperative that he find the man before he had the chance to light the barn on fire. Jess heard the horses begin to squeal inside of the corral and Jess jumped over the top rung, just in time to see a match get lit, a hand bringing it close to a puddle of kerosene.

"Stop! Don't you move! Don't you even take a breath!" Jess shouted as he aimed his gun directly at the arsonist's chest.

Two men holding two entirely different weapons stared at each other. For a moment, there was no time ticking by as everything came to a standstill except for the flickering flame that sparked brightly at the tip of the match. A gun, especially in Jess' hand, could be held in perfect position for a lengthy amount of time, but a match when lit, could only stand strong for a few grueling seconds. The small, yet hungry fire swallowed the tip of the match and crept down the thin stick until it reached a gloved finger, but instead of dying as it touched the kerosene tainted leather, it exploded.

The man yelped and Jess jumped, rolling the arsonist away from the kerosene soaked ground towards the water trough. In one swift motion, he shoved the flaming glove and the arm that went with it to the bottom of the trough, the fire dying as soon as it was submerged. Jess pulled the man backwards and the arsonist fell to the ground, clutching his charred hand close to his chest.

"You finally got burned," Jess ground out his words as he stood over the arsonist, "but I reckon you're bound to get more than that where you'll be going!"

"Jess?"

Jess whipped his head towards the barn at Slim's voice, but when he didn't see his partner emerge through the open doorway, he grabbed a coil of rope that was draped over the corral and tied the arsonist tightly to a post. Jess ran into the barn, but with only one lamp lit in a corner, with most of the barn covered in shadows, he couldn't see Slim anywhere.

"Jess, is that you?" Slim's voice held a strange edge of grogginess, coming from an empty stall.

"Yeah," Jess answered as he hurried to where the sound of Slim's voice had come from. He dropped to one knee when he found Slim laying on his side with his hands bound together behind his back and another knot that was tied tightly around his ankles.

"Is the house?" Slim shook his head trying to snap out of his dizziness. "Daisy? Mike?"

"They're fine," Jess answered truthfully, adding in his head that he was all right too, perhaps the first day that he could say that with honesty since the fires started in Laramie. "The only thing wrong with the house is that we're gonna need to get some new doors."

"He came up behind me and hit me," Slim rubbed the back of his head when Jess slit the ropes free with his knife. "He said he was going to burn everything down around us."

"He didn't get a chance," Jess helped Slim to his feet and then they walked side by side out of the barn.

It was an eerie sight with the two doors on the house completely gone, knowing that mere moments separated its saving and its destruction. There was a strange odor of charred wood and kerosene with the remnants of smoke in the air, but the blended concoction that met Jess' nose didn't make him shudder, but filled his being with gratitude instead. They were all alive. Perhaps not untouched, but unharmed. That knowledge alone was enough to bring a healing balm inside of Jess' heart.

Jess hauled the arsonist into town and the slamming of the cell door was emphasis enough that the worry was over, his and the towns. The fight had started inside of him, but had just come to completion right then and there. In a way, it was like Jess had thrown the memory of Frank Bannister inside of the cell too, right where it belonged; locked away and out of Jess' life.

It would be a few more days before Jess could take the deputy's badge off of his chest and when he did so, he placed the star that he'd polished into the capable hands of Mort. The sheriff hadn't yet fully recovered but was ready to be back on duty, even though he limped when he walked and groaned when he sat down, but as Mort had put it, "you, Jess, were in worse shape than I am now and fighting a ruthless arsonist, I should be able to handle this town!" Just before Jess departed, both men joined hands once again in a resolute handshake, this time without any bandages covering their palms, the thankfulness for each other conveying in their clasp and the light that shone in their eyes.

Jess rode home, coming into the yard well past the first hour of darkness and after he tended to Traveler, he slowly walked out of the barn, coming to a stop in the middle of the yard. Jess stood solidly in place, observing every detail of the place he called home with renewed appreciation. He'd come so close to losing everything once more. Jess knew that if he'd delayed anywhere on the trail that night the arsonist struck or hadn't followed through with any of his speculations, the lives of his loved ones would have paid a heavy price, and he, paying highest of all if he'd been the only survivor left of their close-knit family. He realized right then that Mort had been correct all along. Even when he felt afraid he didn't back down, because he was and always had been greater than his fears. Deep down inside, he finally could see the man that he was, shaped by fire, but never defined by the flames alone. In recent days and weeks, and even as far back as his fifteenth year, inside of him seemed to be nothing but a burning pile of memories, now that fire could be put out for good. Jess knew he'd never fully heal from the affects of fire and the loss of his family as a young man, but he knew that this chapter of darkness could be put behind him.

Later that night, after everyone else was asleep, Jess crawled into his bunk and pulled the blanket up to his neck without any thoughts that his night could be interrupted. If there was an observer watching as Jess' eyes were closed, they would see a man with the appearance of complete serenity. Gone were the shadows of fear and anxiety, the restlessness in his body didn't exist. A smile curled at the corner of his mouth as Jess fell into slumber, a picture of contented rest.

And his sleep was sweet.