Blood Flows Thicker than Water.

Don't own Toy Story or any of it's characters, I do own any and all original characters. I also don't own the character Jack, he belongs to Mirinata.

A/N Mirinata over at Deviantart ask me to write a fanfic based on picture she drew called 'Random Cowboy' and story idea she had. Mirinata I hope you like it! A/N

It was a run down shack, dirty and reeking of stale whiskey and cigar smoke. There was one cot in the corner, its sheets stained with blood. There was a table and chair. A lit lantern sat on the table and upon the chair sat a man drinking whiskey and reading a newspaper clipping.

"No good, goody, goody little brother!" He shouted out loud before taking a drink of his beverage. "One of the best Sheriff's in this wild west!" He sneered. "Keeping his little town safe from all bandits and outlaws that dare to show their heads." He laughed and took another large gulp of whisky from the bottle. "Looks like little brother made it real big. Real big! Well, look out, little brother - big brother is coming to town! And he's going to put you in your place!" He said, taking out his gun with a wicked sneer.

….

The town was a nice looking, clean and decent place if you didn't count the saloons. There was a bank, a general store, a post office, a ladies dress and hat shop, a telegraph office, a newspaper office, a Doctor's office and a Sheriff's office.

"You've let that newspaper story go to your head!" Jessie said angrily as she and Woody walked down the boardwalk on Front Street.

"I have not!" Woody denied.

"Oh, yeah. I waited a whole hour for you to come by my house to pick me up to go fishing and when I finally get tired of waiting for you and go look for you, I find you in the general store making eyes and talking to Holly Taylor about how great you are!"

"I was not making eyes at Holly and I can't help it if she asked me questions about how I catch all those outlaws. And is it my fault I'm so good at it?"

"And I'm sure Holly being so pretty has nothing to do with it, either!"

"Jessie, that ain't true!"

"Sounds like you've got women-trouble, Sheriff," Said a cowboy, leaning against a support post.

"I don't see how that's…" Woody began, but then stopped when he saw the cowboy's face. "Jack!"

"Well howdy, Little brother. It's been a long time, hasn't it? A long time."

"Yeah," Woody said softly, taking his older brother in. "I didn't think you'd still be above snakes."

"I could say the same for you, Little brother - you being a Sheriff and all. I'm surprised no one's snuck up behind you one dark night and shot you in the back."

"Just lucky, I guess," Woody said, evenly.

"Ain't you going to introduce me to your woman-friend, Little brother?" Jack asked him

Woody frowned before saying, "Jack, this is my friend Jessie. Jessie, this is my older brother Jack."

"Howdy," Jessie said.

"Ma'am," Jack said without tipping his hat.

Woody now stepped between them as if trying to protect Jessie from his brother.

"What are doing here, Jack?" He asked him.

"Why, I came to see you, Little brother. See, a friend of mine sent me that newspaper story all about you and I just had to see my Little brother in action!" Jack said, sounding almost as if he was mocking Woody.

"Where are you staying?"

"At the Golden Bell saloon. I like being surrounded by woman."

"No one asked what you like, Jack." Woody told him.

"Maybe I'll see you there, ma'am?" Jack went on, ignoring him.

"I don't work there or at any other saloon," Jessie told him.

"Now, that's a real shame. Since you're dressed like a man I was hoping to see what you looked like dressed as a woman, or undressed."

"That's enough!" Woody interjected, sounding livid as he took a step towards his brother.

"Sheriff Pride! Oh, Sheriff Pride," Came the voice of Holly Taylor. She was running down the boardwalk, her blonde hair flying wildly behind her, holding the folds of her blue skirt in her hands. "Oh, I'm so glad I caught you! Jessie dragged you out of the store before I could invite you to supper tonight - oh, who's this?" Holly asked, noticing Jack.

"This is my older brother, Jack," Woody told her.

"Howdy, I'm Holly Taylor. My Pa owns the general store. Any brother of Sheriff Pride's a friend of mine, so the dinner invitation is extended to you, too. And you're a Sheriff too! It's going to get mighty confusing with two Sheriff Prides'. We'll just have to call each of you Sheriff Woody and Sheriff Jack," Holly said, breathlessly.

"Well, that's mighty neighborly of you, ma'am," Jack said, smiling. "We'd be happy…"

"We can't," Woody interrupted. "It's been a long time since Jack and I have seen each other, so we have a lot to catch up on. Don't we, Big brother?"

"That's right, Little brother. A whole lot. Well - I'll be over the Golden Bell. Join me for a drink, Little brother - that is, if you can drink anything stronger than Adam's Ale," Jack said before walking away.

"I'm sorry, Jess," Woody said. "I'll have to take you fishing some other time. And, Jessie, I'm sorry about what Jack said before."

"It's all right. Just let it go - I am," Jessie told him.

"So I'll see you later?" Woody asked her hopefully.

"I don't see why not and, who knows, maybe I'll have fish or two for you?" Jessie said.

"Huh?"

"Well, just because you're not taking me fishing doesn't mean I can't go fishing myself," said Jessie.

"Well, just be careful. I'll be seeing you later," Woody told her. "Miss Taylor," He said, tipping his hat to the blonde before walking after his brother.

Holly turned and looked at Jessie sharply.

"I want to have a talk with you about Woody."

"What about him, Holly?"

"I want you to stop hanging around with him," Holly said, stomping her foot.

"Why?"

"Because any day now, I know he's going to ask my Pa for the permission to court me and Pa will say no because he and Ma think there's something between the two of you and I know that ain't true, so leave him alone!"

"The day I leave Woody alone is the day he tells me to!" Jessie told her angrily before storming off.

….

There was nothing quite as relaxing as fishing in Jessie's opinion. She did feel somewhat bad for the worms and the fish, but that's just life. Right now, her mind was too filled to feel about the fish and worms though. She was thinking about Woody's brother, Jack, and not in the pleasant way. Looking at him, you could tell he was related to Woody in someway. He was as handsome as Woody, but he didn't look just like him. No - his face was too thin, his eyes not as kind, his arms muscular, and his hands were too big. No - she could never mistake him for her Woody. Unless it was real dark maybe…

Jessie thought back to Woody's reaction to seeing his brother. He hadn't seemed happy; she could tell that right away. If he had been happy, he would have smiled and patted him on the back. No - something wasn't right, but Jessie wasn't sure what it was. All Jessie could really be sure of was that she didn't like Jack one bit, even before he'd made that comment about her. A bad feeling was creeping over Jessie and she suddenly felt very worried for Woody.

….

The Golden Bell saloon was one of the nicer saloons in town. It had crushed velvet gold colored curtains that opened to reveal a stage where girls would sing and dance in the evening. The girls were pretty and not a day over thirty-five, or so they said. The place was large with round card tables everywhere. Men were sitting playing cards and smoking, and saloon girls were walking around in their dresses that showed off their knees, laughing and flirting with the cowboys and dudes.

Woody leaned against the bar nursing his mug of beer, knowing fully well that if he had anything stronger Jessie would most likely smell it on his breath and accuse him of being drunk and then yell at him for coming over to her house drunk.

"You sure have grown up some, Little brother," Came Jack's voice. He was facing the bar drinking straight out of a Whiskey bottle. "Last time I saw you, you could barely talk to girls and now look at you! You're stringing along two of 'em."

"It ain't like that at all," Woody muttered.

"I'd be happy to take one of 'em off your hands for you. Maybe the little blonde?"

"Let me give a friendly piece of advice, Big brother," Woody began. "That girl ain't more than sixteen and her Pa won't think twice about putting a bullet in your belly if you look so much as cross-eyed at her, and it don't matter if you're my brother or not."

"Now, now, Little brother. No need to go through all that. If you want to keep the little blonde, just say so. Besides, I think that red-headed gal is more to my liking," Jack said, grinning wickedly.

"You stay the hell away from Jessie!" Woody hissed sharply in his brother's ear.

Jack turned to face his brother. "So, she is your woman, eh?"

Woody inwardly cursed at himself for letting his feelings about Jessie slip in front of his older brother. Nothing good could come of it, and he darn well knew it.

"I'm surprised at you, Little brother, being with a woman who dresses like a man."

"What are you talking about?" Woody asked him.

"Women who dress like men need to be tamed and you are no woman-tamer. But I am. And I'm going to enjoy taming that gal. "

"Jessie doesn't need any taming. Now listen here, Big brother! You stay the hell away from her, or I'll…"

"You'll what, Little brother? Kill me? You ain't got the guts for that. And you could never take me at wrestling or fist-fighting. I've always been better than you at everything. Maybe even Sheriff-ing."

"Where'd you get the badge, anyway?" Woody asked, trying to change the subject.

"Why, the same way you got yours," Jack said, innocently.

"I doubt that," Woody said. "You've never been one for law and order. How'd you really get it?"

"Maybe I took it off a dead lawman? Just like someone might do to you someday."

….

It was eleven o'clock at night. Woody couldn't find his brother and that was worrying him greatly. He feared that somehow Jack had found out that Jessie lived in town and was at her house doing God knows what to her. At that terrible thought, he quickened his pace and ran to her house. He could see a light on in the front room, but the house was quiet. Woody sucked in a breath as he walked up to her door and knocked.

"Who is it?" Called Jessie's voice from the other side of the door.

"It's me, Woody. Can I come in?"

"It's awfully late," He heard Jessie say.

"Is that a no?" Woody asked.

Jessie sighed, opening the door.

"Woody, what is it? I was just about to get ready for bed," She told him.

Woody darted in and slammed the door shut behind him making Jessie jump slightly. Woody had his hand on his gun as if he expected someone to be hiding behind the door.

"Woody, what in the Sam Hill are you doing?" Jessie asked him, bewildered.

"Nothing," He answered, moving over to the sofa and looking behind it.

"What are you looking for? Outlaws or something?"

"No," He said, moving into the kitchen and looking around.

"Are you drunk?" Jessie asked him sharply, her hands on her hips.

"No, I ain't," He said, walking to the backend of the house.

"Oh, no you don't!" Jessie yelled, running in front of him. "You are not going in my bedroom poking around until you tell me why, and I still might not let you anyway!" Jessie said, standing in the doorway of the room blocking Woody from entering.

"Jessie, move!" Woody ordered.

"No!" Jessie challenged.

Woody placed his hands on Jessie's waist in attempt to move her, but stopped when Jessie locked eyes with him. At the eye-contact, he suddenly became aware of how close they were and where his hands were placed. It could have been the drinks he'd had catching up to him, or perhaps it was just being so close to Jessie, but Woody forgot why he was there in the first place. As he felt her hands settle on the biceps of his arms, he wanted to stay like that with her forever.

"Woody," She said, softly. "Please tell me what's wrong."

"What's wrong?" Woody asked, sounding confused. What could be wrong? Didn't she want this? Didn't she want him to hold her like this? He was sure she felt the same way he felt for her; she was always getting jealous, too, whenever he paid the slightest attention to some other girl. What could she think was wrong?

"You are drunk!" Jessie yelled, cutting into his thoughts. "You've been at the Golden Bell saloon all day with your brother drinking, haven't you?" Jessie asked him sternly.

"N-not all day," Woody stammered, slightly afraid of her temper.

"Oh, really? Well, you smell like you've been in one all day. And this is the first time I've seen you at all since meeting your brother earlier. And I stopped by your office several times today to give you a fish that I caught and you weren't in there every time I went to look!"

"I was in there around ten," Woody offered, weakly.

"Well, I was home around ten. Now, how much have you had to drink?"

"Just a few beers," He told her.

"How many is a few?"

"A few is a few."

"And I'm just going to make you a few cups of coffee," Jessie said, stepping out of Woody's embrace and dragging him to the kitchen with her.

"Jessie, I don't need coffee and I am not drunk!"

"You are too! Now sit down and don't sass me!"

"Yes ma'am," Woody said, defeated. "Jessie?"

"Hum?" Jessie grunted, putting the coffee to a boil.

"Can I have fish with my coffee?"

"Didn't you have dinner with your brother?"

"I did, but arguing with you makes me hungry."

"Fine," Jessie huffed, getting out her frying pan. "Now will you tell me what you're looking for?"

"My brother," Woody told her.

"In my bedroom?" Jessie asked, outraged, waving the frying pan at him. "What kind of a girl do you think I am?"

"That came out all wrong!" Woody said, jumping up and grapping the frying pan from her. "Let me explain," He said hastily. "I can't find Jack and I was afraid that he might have come here to maybe try to force you into something."

"Is your brother really that bad?" Jessie asked him, softly.

"I think so. It's been so long since I last saw him. Jessie, please be careful around him. Just because he's my brother don't make him good."

"I know that. I ain't naïve like some girls we know," Jessie said, bitterly.

"Jessie, don't you know you mean more to me than all the people in this town?" Woody told her sincerely.

"Oh, Woody," Jessie said, softly, her eyes half-closed. "Why can't you tell me these things when you're sober?!"

"I am sober!"

"Then tell me these thing when you smell sober!"

"Where's my fish and coffee?"

"Sit down and I'll make it for you. Lord knows why, though."

They were both quiet as Jessie cooked. Jessie was thinking about what Woody had said and Woody was gazing at Jessie's figure thinking how he needed to marry her soon before he did something that would get him shot…by her.

"Come over tomorrow and have breakfast with me," Jessie told him as Woody ate and drank. "I have something important I want to talk to you about."

"All right."

….

The following day Woody stood in his office washing his face at the water basin.

"You're being mighty careless, Little brother," Jack said, stepping into his office. "Anybody could come right in here and shoot you."

"That's a risk I have to take," Woody told him, drying his face. "Where were you last night?"

"In the company of a woman."

"One of the Golden Bell saloon girls?"

"Now, that wouldn't be very gentlemanly of me to tell," Jack said.

"You a gentleman?" Woody asked. "Since when?"

"You've washed your-self extra good. Got your eye on one of the waitresses at the restaurant?"

"No, I'm having breakfast with Jessie," Woody told him.

"Mind if I tag along?"

"Yes I do," Woody said, reaching into his pocket and handing his brother some dollar pieces. "Here, go to the restaurant and have breakfast on me."

"Can't argue with that. Besides, I ought to let you have one last time alone with her before I take her from you," Jack said darkly.

Woody's fists tightened. "Why are you here, Jack? Why are you really here?"

"I'm here, Little brother," Jack said, walking over to him, putting his face right in Woody's face. "To kill you. And then I'm going to turn this town into a lawless place where no one's safe from nothing!"

Woody was too stunned to say or do anything as he watched his brother leave his office. Anyone else, he would have put in jail or run out of town, but Jack was his big brother and Woody wanted so desperately to believe it was just a sick joke on Jack's part. But his lawman's instinct was telling him otherwise, and it terrified him.

…

"What did you want to talk to me about?" Woody asked Jessie as they sat down to breakfast.

"Your brother."

"What about him?" Woody questioned, tensely.

"He's trouble, ain't he?"

"I think so. He was always getting in trouble when we were kids. He left home when he was fifteen."

"How old were you?"

"Ten. I think he left mostly for Ma's sake. She used to cry when he'd get in trouble. I remember a few days before he left, the Sheriff from my old home town locked him up in jail."

"What did he do?"

"I ain't rightly sure. I was so young at the time and my parents didn't tell me much, only that Jack did something bad. It couldn't have been that bad because the Sheriff let him go. I wonder what he's been up to all this time?"

"Is he really a Sheriff?" Jessie asked him.

"I don't know."

"Well, what do you know?" Jessie asked, annoyed at Woody's vagueness.

"Nothing!" Woody shouted, standing up and throwing down his napkin. "I don't know anything about my own brother! I don't know if he's serious or not, or if he means what says about taking you away from me! If he's in trouble with the law! I just don't know!" He said, banging his fist on the table.

"Woody," Jessie said, coming over to him. "There ain't a man alive on this earth that could take me away from you."

"You don't know my brother."

"From the sound of it, neither do you."

With that, Woody sighed and shook his head. Jessie placed her hand on his shoulder.

"Isn't there someone you could telegram to ask about him? You know, to see if he is an outlaw or something?" Jessie asked him.

"I guess I could send some telegrams asking other Sheriffs if they know anything about him?" Woody said, almost reluctantly.

"Woody, what are you going to do if he is in trouble with the law?"

"That's another thing I don't know Jess. I just don't know."

….

"Just charge this to my brother's account," Jack said to Holly at the general store. Jack had 'bought' a very expensive pocket knife.

"Of course, Sheriff Jack!" Holly said. "I wouldn't think of doing anything else. You are Sheriff Woody's brother after all. I know he'd insist on it."

"You think an awful lot of my brother, don't you?"

"Oh yes, I do. You know, any day now Sheriff Woody is going to ask my Pa for permission to court me," She said with a giggle.

"Is that so?" Jack said, thoughtfully. "Well now, I thought he and that redheaded gal…"

"Everyone thinks that, but it ain't true! Jessie ain't got no shame in walking around the way she does in pants! Why, she practically lives like a man!"

"Does she now?"

"She owns her home right here in town!"

"What street?"

"Prairie Street. You can't miss her house; it's a one-story house painted bright yellow, surrounded by a white picket fence and there's a well in her fount-yard, too."

"How does she support herself?" Jack asked, truly interested now.

"Well, she has chickens and she does sell eggs, but everybody knows her grandmother left her all this money and that it's hidden in her house somewhere."

"Well now, thanks for taking the time to talk to me, Miss Holly. I think I'm gonna pay a call on Miss Jessie now.

Jessie was outside in her front yard pulling weeds when Jack came walking up.

"Howdy there, Miss Jessie," Jack said.

"If you're looking for Woody, he ain't here."

"I'm here to see you," He retaliated, smiling evilly.

"What do you want?"

"You, little lady, you" Jack said, advancing towards her.

'Oh no!' Jessie thought, trying to run for the house, but Jack was too quick for her. He sprang towards her, grabbed her by the arms and pinned her against the well.

"Now you ain't acting friendly-like," Jack said as Jessie struggled him.

"Let go of me!" Jessie yelled, stomping on Jack's foot.

"Oh, I'm going to enjoy taming you!" sneered Jack, going to kiss her. Jessie turned her head just in time and Jack ended up kissing her neck.

"Get off of me!" Jessie yelled, trying to use her knees on him.

"That's good struggle. It makes it all the more fun!"

Jessie tried to scratch at him, but his grip on her was too strong.

"I bet you're not like this with my brother!"

"Your brother is a gentleman! He'd never treat me like this!"

"Ain't that a shame? Because this is what you want and need! You want me to treat you like this! You want to be with a real man like me! I'll make you feel things you could never feel with Woody!"

"I'd sooner be dragged by horse!" Jessie protested, stomping on his other foot harder this time.

Jack let go of Jessie with one hand and, before she had time to register this, he pulled out his pocket-knife and held it up to her throat.

"Struggle now and I'll slice your pretty little face to ribbons. I wonder what Little brother would think of you with scars all over your face, hmm?"

Now Jessie was truly frightened. Vanity or honor? She had to decide.

"Let's see what's under this blouse," Jack said as he began to slice off the buttons to her blouse with his knife. That was when Jessie decided what to do. Vanity be aside, she'd never be able to look at herself in the mirror again anyway if she just let him do this to her and if she didn't try to fight back!

"No!" She cried using her free hand.

….

After having breakfast with Jessie; Woody had gone directly to the telegraph office to send out inquiries about his brother. He had stayed there waiting for the replies knowing he'd be too anxious to do anything else. Woody wasn't sure how much time had passed when he received his first answer: Jack Pride was wanted for questioning regarding a robbery and murder at a livery stable.

Woody clutched the telegraph in his hand; he needed to find his brother now! Woody looked all over town for his brother; in the restaurant, all the saloons, his office, the post office….

"Maybe he's in the general store?" Woody asled himself.

"Hi, Sheriff Woody!" Holly said, brightly. "My Pa's in the back room if you want to talk to him."

"Have you seen my brother?" Woody asked, in no mood to put up with her nonsense.

"Yes, he was in here earlier. He said he was going to pay a call on Jessie."

The color drained in Woody's face as the horrible realization hit him. He could only pray that he'd get to Jessie in time.

"No!" Woody heard her yell. Just a short moment later, he heard her cry out in pain. Then, he saw them by the well. Woody ran to Jack, grabbed him by the back of his shoulders, turned him around and sucker-punched him in the stomach.

"He's got a knife!" Jessie yelled.

Woody grabbed Jack's wrist and was able to wrestle the knife out of his hand and onto the ground. He was just able to kick the knife away before he and his brother ended up tumbling down to the ground.

Jessie watched them fight as she clutched her wrist that had been cut by the knife. It had taken her a moment to realize that it was Woody who'd come to her rescue. Her eyes were wide as she watched them wrestle on the ground and break part of her fence as they fought and slammed into each other. Woody finally stood up.

"Get out of here, Jack! I don't care where you go! Just get out of town and I never want to see you again! Do ya hear?"

"Yeah, yeah, I hear and I'm going," Jack said, getting up. 'That's right, Little brother. I'll just let you think you've won and only later, in the center of town, will we really settle this!' Jack thought wickedly.

Woody rushed to Jessie's side.

"Are you all right?" He asked her anxiously.

"I-I think so," She said, slightly in shock over everything that had just happened. "It's just my wrist and blouse that got the worst of it."

"It's going to need stitches," Woody said, examining the deep gash. Then, he gazed up at her blouse wondering what Jessie had meant by her remark. With half the buttons gone, her blouse now was half-open exposing her corset. Woody quickly turned away and wrapped Jessie's wrist with his bandana. The last thing Jessie wanted was for him to gawk at her undergarment.

"I need to change my blouse," Jessie said.

"I'll wait for you outside," Woody told her.

"Jessie," Woody said when she had come back outside. "I'm so sorry."

"Woody, it's not your fault," Jessie told him as they began to walk the doctor's office.

"It is! I should have never left your side. My brother had said things to me about wanting to do things to you. I never thought he'd really try something, especially in broad daylight. Right in town..."

"Woody, what matters to me is that you came when you did. Woody, I don't blame you for what happened, so don't blame yourself. I hate it when you do that."

….

The doctor had just finished stitching and dressing Jessie's wound.

"How much do I owe you, Doc?" Jessie asked him.

"A dollar should cover it."

"Let me," Woody said, reaching into pocket only to remember he'd spent all his money.

Jessie shook her head and paid the Doctor.

All three of them heard a gunshot in the distance and went wide-eyed. The shot was followed by screams coming from the bank. They rushed outside just in time to see Jack leg it out of the bank holding a bag of money.

"He shot and killed one of the tellers!" Cried the bank president. Jack turned sharply and shot him. He let out a cry and crumpled to the ground. A woman screamed upon seeing it.

"All right, Little brother. Now we're really going to settle this!"

"Jack, don't make me do this!" Woody pleaded.

"You got no choice," Jack said, dropping the bag of money. "I ain't going to jail. Now, do you want me to shoot you dead or do you want to draw?"

"You can't do this!" Screamed Holly, running towards Jack.

"Get out of here you stupid fool-kid!" Woody shouted at her.

"Why are you doing this?" She cried. "You're brothers and lawmen," Holly said, tugging at Jack's arm.

"I ain't no lawman. Now get or I'll shoot you next!" Jack yelled, backhanding her and knocking her to the ground. Holly's mother screamed and rushed to her daughter, almost dragging the crying girl away from the danger.

"Now where were we, Little brother?"

"Don't make me do this, Jack!"

"One!" He lowered his hand to his gun.

"Please don't, Jack!"

"Two!" His hand began to fidget slightly.

"Jack, you don't know what you're asking of me!"

"Three!"

They both fired and both felt great pain. But only one's pain was greater than the other's and, when the smoke cleared, one Pride brother lay on the ground dying.

"Jack!" Woody cried, running to his brother. There was terrible burning in his side making it hard for Woody to get to him. He fell to the ground and took his brother into his arms. "Why Jack? Why?" Woody asked as grief began to hit him.

"Why?" Jack asked him, laughing slightly before coughing up some blood. "I'm jealous of you, Little brother. From the day you ,were born, it just kept on building. I wanted to make a name for myself as an outlaw. I wanted papers to write stories about me, about how bad I am," Jack paused and coughed again. "But instead they write about how good you are. So I wanted to come and kill you to show everyone that I was the best. But, instead, you got me, good Little brother." Jack made some gurgling noise and then died in his brother's arms.

"Jack?" Woody asked, shaking him. "Jack!"

What happened next seemed like a blur to Woody. There were men telling him he had to do it, and then he was in the doctor's office. He had taken Jack's bullet in the side, but he'd live and so would the bank president. The doctor gave him something for the pain, which would also help him sleep, and Jessie took him home with her and put him to bed in the spare bedroom.

"Where are his hat and boots?" Woody asked sharply the next day as he viewed his brother's body in the coffin.

"Well, he's not going to need them where he's going. So, I just assumed…" Began the undertaker.

"My brother ain't going to be buried without his hat and boots. Do you hear?" Woody said, angrily

The undertaker nodded and went to fetch them.

Jessie wore her black dress at the funeral and stood by Woody's side. The other town's people came by; all telling Woody he had to do it, his brother was no good. More telegrams came telling of more bad deeds Jack had done, even connecting him with the outlaw One-Eyed Bart.

Woody couldn't stand everyone being so nice to him. The guilt was talking over what he had done. Outlaw or not, Jack was his big brother and he had killed him.

Woody was as good as drunk as he stumbled to Jessie's house. It was night-time, but Woody wasn't sure how late it was.

"Jessie!" Woody yelled, knocking on her door. "I want to tell you something!"

Jessie opened the door and crossed her arms.

"I am drunk," Woody told her.

"I can see that."

"You want know why?"

"I have a good guess."

"I'm drunk because I killed my brother! That's why! I killed my own brother and everybody thinks it's just fine!"

"So you just decided to get drunk and come here so I could yell at you, is that it? So you can feel better."

"I killed my brother! Just as Cain did to Adel."

"Not from where I was standing. You didn't kill your brother in cold blood."

"I had to do it, right?" Woody asked, angrily.

"That's right, you did! Because if you hadn't, it would be you lying dead! And do you think your brother would've cared that he'd killed you? No - he'd be happy about it."

"I'm not my brother! I'm me!" Woody said, drunkenly.

"Your brother was no good! You know it! I know it! And the whole town knows it!"

"He was still my brother. He was my big brother! Don't you understand? Why doesn't anybody understand?" Woody sounded like he was going to cry.

"I know he was your big brother and I'm sorry," Jessie said to him, taking his hands in hers and making him sit down on the sofa with her. "I'm sorry for the way things turned out. I'm sorry he wasn't good like you, and I'm sorry for all the pain you are going through because of your brother. But, Woody, listen to me: If it wasn't you, it would have been someone else. Another Sheriff's bullet, some bounty hunter, or some kid trying to get a reputation. Woody, if you had just wounded him and arrested him, you know he'd have been sentenced to a hanging for killing that bank-teller."

"Don't you think I know that? No matter what, his blood is on my hands," Woody let go of Jessie's hands and looked at his own as if they were truly stained with blood. "I still remember how he looked when I got to him. Blood was flowing out him. Why couldn't he have been just some random cowboy? Why?"

Seeing how much pain Woody was in broke Jessie's heart.

"I don't know why."

"I hate killing. When I have to do it, I'm numb afterwards. Why can't I feel numb now? Why is everyone telling me I had to do it?"

"Because that's what they think you need to hear. Woody, I don't know what to say or do to comfort you. Only, you've got to move past this. You can't let his death at your hands haunt you for the rest of your life. Your brother was no good! He attacked me and came here to kill you. He even tried. You've got to remember that!"

Woody closed his eyes letting Jessie's words sink in.

"Y'know something? You're right. And that is why I love you, Little Missy," Woody said, sounding far too drunk for Jessie's taste. But before she could do anything, Woody kissed her.

"Woody," Jessie said, softly. "Don't kiss me when you're drunk! It takes all the pleasure out it! And while we're on the subject, you ain't getting that kind comfort from me until after we're married! Now go outside and sleep on the porch!"

Jessie didn't speak to Woody for days afterwards. It was good for Woody at first, since he needed to be alone with his thoughts. He would often go riding Bullseye alone trying to remember any good times he'd had with his brother. He couldn't remember a thing really. After a while, when Jessie still wouldn't speak to him or acknowledge him, Woody knew he needed to do something to get back into her good books. Maybe fixing her fence would be a good start.

He was in the back room of the general store with Mr. Taylor picking out supplies when Holly came in.

"Sheriff Woody, do you really think I'm just a dumb-fool kid?" She asked, sadly.

Woody sighed, "I think you have a lot of growing up to do."

"Are you going to wait for me to grow up?" She asked hopefully.

Woody looked at her father before answering. His answer wasn't going to easy for her. "I'm sorry, Holly, but for me it's always been Jessie from day one. And that's how it will always be."

Holly's lip quivered. "Ma!" She cried, running out the room.

"Don't worry, Sheriff. It's a hard listen, but she will get over it."

"I hope so - I didn't want to hurt her."

"I know. In case you're interested, I have some very nice rings that you and Jessie might want to take a look at."

"Thanks for letting me know. I'll ask her if she'd like to look at them with me."

"Good luck."

"Thanks. I think I'll need it."

….

Woody was in direct sunlight as he worked on fixing Jessie's fence. It was hot and sweat was beginning to form on his brow.

"Took you long enough to get around to fixing that," came Jessie's voice. Woody turned around to see her standing on the porch holding a try of freshly made lemonade. "Come and take a break," She continued, smiling at him.

Woody smiled and joined her on the porch.

"How is it? Good?" Jessie asked after he had taken a drink of his lemonade.

"Very good," Woody told her. "Jessie, I'm sorry about coming over drunk before. I was very out of line."

"Well, no real harm done," Jessie told him. "Woody, there's something I want to tell you."

"What is it?" Woody asked, slightly worried.

"If you ever show up to my house drunk again, I will throw you down the well. Do you understand?"

Woody chuckled, "Yes, Jessie. I understand."

"Woody, are you…are you really okay?" Jessie asked him, slightly worried.

"I'm getting there. I need to stop staying in the moment and keep moving towards the future."

"That's good."

"Jessie…maybe later you'd like to go to the general store with me and hopefully pick out a ring?" Woody asked, nervously.

"I'd like to do that," Jessie smiled and snuggled against him. "Maybe, while we're there, I can find some nice white muslin to make a dress out of?"

"That sounds like a real fine idea," Woody told her.

"Woody?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm still going to throw you down the well if you come home drunk."

Woody laughed and kissed the top of Jessie's head.

His brother's death at his hands would always haunt him, Woody knew that. But he also knew that if he let his grief for what had happened consume him, he would lose what was most important to him.

(The end)

A/N So this is a stand-alone story and hope everyone liked it. Sorry if the ending was too rushed. But I wanted everything to come to full circle. A/A