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Jessie slept fitfully that night. He had been a pup the last time he'd slept under the stars, and not having a nice warm house around him made it so hard to breathe. He sat up wracking with a cough sometime early in the morning, John shaking him awake, handing the bottle of laudanum over. Jessie took a big pull, wincing at the taste. Almost immediately he felt better, and felt his breathing turn normal.

"Going to have to lay off the poppy juice for a bit, I have something that might be a bit better." The Palomino smiled opening a dark brown bottle. Jessie could smell the pungent oak and dirt smell of whiskey, wrinkling his black nose a bit. He sighed but took a few good swallows of the brown liquor as it burned down his throat. He swallowed as quickly as he could, letting the dual mixture settle and warm in his stomach.

John coughed a little himself as he sat beside the cattle dog, taking an equally large pull on the bottle before stoppering it and stowing it back in a pack. "You know it's a damned fool thing for you to join us Jessie." The horse said flatly, his ears drooping a little. "I mean, I know I dragged you into this, but, you're no outlaw. Allen, he and I killed real furs. We were under attack. You, you should be in bed."

Jessie scowled. "Oh really? Who was it who abducted me? I could still turn you in. I bet there's a reward out for you..." The equine froze, his tail still and his ears back. "But I won't. I'd be no better than Mr. Stillwell. It's not my concern what happens to you from here on out, but I know you have to do what you need to. Me? Why am I with you? I.....can't explain it."

John relaxed at that and stared at the canine. The stars shining down and an almost chill breeze blew around a second, causing the remains of the fire to pop and spark a little. "Dad, was a war hero. My sister was going to be an artist. My mother is a day school teacher. I...." Here Jessie paused looking away for a moment, "was going to be a mechanic on the railroad. My learning was cut short, I was sent here. To die. End of story. I have no future. I have no dream. There are no big engineering schools here, no big factories, no large rail system. So what do I have to expect? How long Doctor Horse, how long until I coughing and drowning in my own blood?" Jessie stared at John, his brown expressive eyes catching the horses. His canine cropped ears were back, and his tail still and sagged on the ground. John felt his own ears go back.

"Ah...four years? Maybe ten. Its hard to tell without knowing all of your particulars, but someone who coughs up blood because of cold air or a little smoke is not one who has a lot of time left. The laudanum will make you comfortable, it may take the pain away, but it suppresses breathing as well. A double edged sword. I've heard of a few people drinking themselves under the table and able to cope well for years, but they weren't spitting up blood either." John rubbed his fingers in his eyes as Jessie nodded.

"Well, at least you're honest. Let me make my life count. That's all, for good or bad, I want and need it to count for something. I don't want to be a footnote in history, some image long forgotten in people's mind as "that kind fellow who signed the ledger....what was his name again?" Jessie smiled halfheartedly, laying back down.

"So, it's easy, ride to his ranch, scout it out, if it's lightly armed, set it afire, and get out. If it isn't, fight our way in, set fire, and fight our way out. Either way, he loses. Even if we're killed, the money is buried not far from here." John smirked a little. If we don't make it, take my vest. The map to the money is in the lining. Use it, and go have a good life.

Jessie swallowed hard. John handed him a spare pistol and rifle. He also showed him Cody's old horse "Gunner" a white gelding with a dark grey mane. He hauled himself up coughing lightly, taking a few deep breaths to calm himself. The other two mounted, and they rode out.

**

John sighed, laying his lanky frame against his own blankets staring at the dying fire. "Ok, I promise." He didn't know if he whispered for Jessie, or for himself.

**

Dawn was early out here in the desert. Jessie woke with a huge yawn, and a light cough, cringing at the metallic coppery taste of blood in his maw. "Breakfast?" Alan, the big brown bull rumbled, handing over hardtack and some boiled salt pork and coffee. Jessie grimaced. More from the pain in his chest than from the plain fare handed to him. He'd eaten many similar meals over his time out here. "Gee, my chest still hurts bad..." He grumbled taking a bite of the overly salty pork as he dunked the hardtack into his black gritty coffee. The morning was cool, and the cactus wrens sang softly in the morning breeze. The horses munched on some nearby plants.

"Well, you were slung over the saddle cock for a good long while, I can only imagine at the bruises" John replied, finishing his coffee, and putting a clean tin plate back in his pack. Jessie grumbled a little at the indignant image of him slung over the saddle like a sack of grain, lying limp and unconscious from his fit yesterday.

"So, what's the plan for today?" Jessie asked around a tantalizing tasty piece of salt-pork fat. He drooled a little as the carnivore in him tore into the soft fatty and salty meat. John chuckled a little, finally coughing for the first time.

"Well, now that we have his wealth, we need to make Stillwell pay in another way." John said sighing as he took a swig from his whisky bottle, coughing a little, handing it over to Jessie who did the same. "We think we can get some revenge by burning his ranch to the ground, and then getting out of here as quick as possible. I'd like to have more revenge, but Allen here...." The horse sighed as the bull nodded.

"Not every hurt needs to repaid, just the majority. The biggest to Stillwell is his money, the second is his home. Anything else is just excess, and he cares for very little else." Allen rumbled deeply and nodded as he concluded his statement, cleaning the coffee pot and soup pan that he'd used to boil the pork. The huge bull sighed as he finished his task, and waited for the two to get ready.

Jessie leveraged himself up, and took himself into the bushes to relieve himself. He found a convenient bush and did what he needed to. His mind raced. Here he was, diagnosed with terminal illness, away from family, home, and friends, and about to embark on what some would call an adventure. He shuddered a little. He knew this was no childish adventure. He, Allen, John, or all three could be killed within seconds. He had no illusions his chances were non-existent, but he had nothing else going for him.

It was dawning on Jessie that John was right. The blood, weakness, wet cough, and tiredness were signs of something more than just asthma. He had something seriously wrong with his health, and incurable. He could feel the heavy weight in his chest even as the remains of the whiskey he slugged still burned down his raw throat. He coughed lightly as the soft desert breeze played across his fur.

"Come on pup! Time to head out!" John bellowed out as Allen grunted, pulling his hulking frame up on his draft horse. Jessie hitches his pants up, sliding his belt home, and jogged lightly over to the other horse.

He's been given "Ranger," Cody's, the other outlaw who had been gunned down in the bank, horse. Ranger was scraggly, and a little swaybacked, but suited Jessie just fine. The grey sidestepped a bit as Jessie hauled himself onto the saddle and protested a little. Jessie rapped the horse between the ears hard to get it's attention, and hauled the reigns aside to follow the horse and bull.

**

Time passes as the three rode their mis-matched horses up into the foothills of the Mule Mountains, the soft afternoon sun beating down on them as the heat steadily grew. Jessie coughed once in a while as the dust tickled the back of his throat and got stuck deep in his chest. Every once and a while John would pass him the bottle of whiskey so he could take a swig. Jessie notices the pony had a sympathetic look each time this happened.

Soon they were high along the ridge heading to Zacatecas Canyon and the remains of some older mines. There were a few old-timers out here who refused to move with the times and still tried to eek out a living in these barren brush strewn hills.

Soon, the trio turned down another ridge to the valley to the east. The trail was weak, and nothing more than a cattle track. "Where are we?" Jessie asked quietly as the sun dipped being him to the west. He wiped yet more blood off his lips.

"Near Pearce..." Alan answered rumbling while staring off to the distance worriedly. "We should be there soon...ahhh!"

Suddenly Allen pulled his big roan draft horse up short, the other two scrambled to stop their horses as the homestead came into view. The huge ranch house was surrounded by a few sentries and bon fires.

"Shit!" John swore spitting off to the side. "Sentries. I think the old bastard knew we're coming." Alan smiled at that. "Good."

Suddenly the huge bull whipped his horse into frenzy and rode toward the house as John swore and Jessie looked on confused. "I- I thought we were going to sneak and..."

"Yeah, John spit to the side. Apparently not!" He reigned his horse in, stopping it (just) from bolting after it's stable mate. Allen spurred his horse on cruelly, reaching to his side for a rifle. The bull pulled it to his shoulder, sighted, and got three shots off before anyone knew what was happening. Three sentries fell, two into their prospective fires. A good ten sentries were now scrambling, and a bell was ringing. John swore as he backed his horse off to a small bluff.

"Fucking stupid bull!" the Palomino swore as the bull peeled off to a return course. Both Jessie and John watches as a single sentry drew a bead and shot.

The bullet didn't hit Allen, it hit his horse in the chest, the beast fell to the ground with an ear shattering neigh. The big bull swore hugely as his body hit a brush and cactus, rolling to a stop a few yards away. He stood up, and bolted for John who was a good twenty yards away at this point. Jessie had no choice, but turned his horse, and whipped it cruelly getting himself out of there. A few seconds later shots rang out and the three made their way into the hills. A few seconds later, a wounded Allen and John sped past Jessie, leading the way, John leaned back barking orders at the cattle dog, who just clung on to the saddle, directing his horse to follow.

Several hours later, near dawn, the horses drew to a stop. Foam and stinking sweat marked their sides, as Allen collapsed to the side, his big brown form falling to the ground with an audible grunt.

Jessie pulled himself stiffly off of the saddle, and ran over to the bull and stared wide eyes. The bulls naked chest had three exit wounds from bulls that hit him in the back. One in each shoulder, and one in his lower chest near the top of his abdomen. John slid down and stared wide eyed, gaping. "Liver shot."

It was all he got out before he leaned over and collapsed. John had several wounds as well; Two to his mid-back, one to his buttock. Nothing life-threatening but the wounds were painful none the less. Jessie whined and helped John tend to his wounds then to Allen's. "Better I'm able to take care of him first..." the pony had mused.

Soon Allen was laid out on the ground. John had a series of surgical tools that looked far too cruel to Jessie. The light shown down weakly from the rising moon, and the breeze was getting colder. Jessie could hear faint rustlings in the brush, probably from animals drawn to the smell of blood.

"Get my rifle, and fight anything off." John ordered curtly. Jessie coughed hugely as he grabbed the lever action rifle, and fired a round into what he thought was a shape. He heard a yelp and some scrabbling, then silence. Now the only sound that met his ears was cursing coming from Allen. It was full of strong curses. John muttered encouraging words, and then the cursing grew fainter, and fainter, until it stopped. Silence descended for a few minutes. Then there was the sound of a few things being packed away in a bag.

"It's over" John muttered.

**

Sometime later Jessie yawned. He'd been standing near the edge of the camp with the rifle, fending off beasts with the thing until John finally put a bloodied hand on his shoulder. Jessie whimpered. John's pony paw was caked with thick dried blood. Glancing around, Allen was nowhere in sight. "Where???" Jessie began.

John's ears went flat against his dark mane, looking down. "I buried him about twenty yards away. It took a while, but he should be OK there." Here the pony wiped his blood caked hand on his white shirt leaving a mess but cleaning his fur of most of the caked on blood. "He was done for before he got to us, now, we just move on...he....would have wanted that..."

John looked down his long muzzle to the ground. Jessie whined putting the rifle down finally.

"What do you mean?" Jessie whispered, his hand reaching out to John's muscular shoulder. "I mean, we should leave. Allen, was the only other one, it's just me now, and with no one else to share my hate, I feel it....gone."

John looked up shyly. "I think the last year or two it was Allen and Cody who spurred me on. Now? I only have you. No offence. Just a sickly teller who wants a better life. We can have that you know, a better life." John reached out to Jessie putting his paw on the canine shoulder as Jessie stiffened at the implications.

He'd had girlfriends his entire life, but had never really gotten further than a kiss. Oh he'd had male friends too. Plenty. They'd wrestled, played, and pawed off together. And now, with John here, with him?

Jessie swallowed. The palomino pony next to him looked so sad. He felt tears well up in his eyes at that. He reached one tentative grey paw out and draped it over John's shoulder. "John....I....well....that would be fine..." he whispered.

John's tear laden muzzle looked up. His light brown and white fur shone in the moonlight as he wiped a tear or two away. He coughed a little, no blood on his lips. "Well, then, we should be going."

The shot rang out clear; it pinged harmlessly away from a nearby boulder. "Shit!" Jessie howled dropping to the ground. A few more shots rang out, none of the bullets coming close. Suddenly John reached out with one hoof and kicked out the small fire they had built before he'd worked on Allen. Soon shots rang out randomly and Jessie made his way over to John.

"Damn!" John shouted, this time coughing a little blood up. "We're surrounded. What the hell do we do!?" His equine face was twisted in a rictus of pain and fear. The moon shone off the nearby rocks, and the sparse vegetation looked grey in the dim light. Jessie smiled.

**

"Hold your fire!!!" Jessie shouted, coughing into his shirt, blood staining the white cotton. He smiled at that. Nothing like the poor weak sickling for a good performance. He feigned to be more tired than he was. He stumbled down the hill to the guards. He crouched in front of them coughing hugely, rackingly retching once on his own fluids convincingly.

"Hold! Damned your eyes!" The huge bull, Mr. Stillwell bellowed. It's Jessie! Son are you ok!?" The bull strode forward wearing a tough leather long coat, pants, and a huge shotgun at his side. Jessie shuddered at the sight, and feigned a huge cough.

"Yes....sir." He panted. His hand wiped a clean white cloth across his muzzle pulling the bloodied rag aside. He'd kept a lot of blood in his mouth over the last few minutes and had spitted it out now.

Mr. Stillwell shuddered. "Jessie! What happened?"

Jessie told a tale. It was as much fiction as it was truth. He'd been caught by the gang, he'd tried to fight them off, then he'd been kidnaped. They kept him with them, and the big bull had charged... "

Here Jessie went into actor mode. Thank Goodness for Theater Class In College! "he thought.

"Then, Allen got shot, and came back. He and John fought, and John left. You guys fought Allen, and he....died....over there....

Jessie waved to the hill above him. He knew what the guards would find. One dead bull. Wounds everywhere, and some hasty made bandages.

"What about John Franks!?" Stillwell scowled. Jessie shrunk under the glare. "Gone off sir. High tailed it once Allen died. Go look for yourself. I think he went east."

Sure enough John's horse had gone east. Spurred by a swift swat, and a big bag of grain held by an improvised tree branch in front of it. It was cruel, but lives were at stake. Soon the scouts came back and confirmed the situation. Stillwell was incensed and hot to set out a posy now. Only Jessie guilted him into action.

"Sir...please...I need....*cough*....to get to town and let my family know *cough cough* how I am." He laid it on thick. The blood stained the new cloth he held. Stillwell smiled fakely and nodded. "Enough youngster. We'll get you to Dr. Wells. Rey!" He shouted to another rider. "See that Jessie here gets home safe. Get Dr. Rey and see that he's paid. We'll deal with the outlaw later!"

**

Jessie rode away with the posse. John rose up out of Allen's grave slowly, the soft earth letting him free. They had pretended the new grave was not finished, and had disinterred Allen. The bull would not have minded. John smiled at the thought of Jessie. The poor dog would be free, and taken care off. Soon he'd return, get his friend, and take him with him. He'd done more than enough. Revenge, If not complete, was done. Mr. Stillwell had proven he was a clueless idiot. And sometimes that was enough of a revenge.