A Reason To Stay
By Badgergater
Season One: An epilogue to that early episode, Glory Road
Summary: Many profound conversations take place on the Sherman Ranch porch. Jonesy imparts some words of wisdom to an uncertain Jess Harper and reveals some truths about Slim Sherman.
Author's note: As always, a huge tip of the hat to my amazing beta, Hired Hand.
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Dusk was settling over the Sherman Ranch, the last rays of the setting sun painting the cloud-streaked western sky in broad swathes of purple and orange. Slim had taken Andy with him to Laramie to pick up fencing supplies, and the two of them wouldn't be home until well past dark. That left just the old man, Jonesy, and the young drifter turned ranch hand, Jess Harper, to eat the evening meal together.
When they were done with their food and the table cleared, Jess went out to the porch and rolled himself a smoke. Jonesy, unable to resist, delightedly sat down at the recently acquired piano, flexed his fingers and began to play - fast songs, slow songs, gospel songs, even some rather bawdy songs. He reveled in the sheer joy of letting his fingers dance across the ivory keys and make music.
Finally, after more than half an hour, it got quiet and the old man, his bowler hat as always perched atop his head, emerged from the house.
"That was some mighty fine music, Jonesy," Jess declared, getting up and offering the older man his chair.
"That's one mighty fine piano," Jonesy replied, sitting down in the old chair on the front porch of the Sherman Ranch house.
Jess leaned a shoulder and a hip against the roof post, smoking. There was companionable silence for a few minutes, the young man looking out across the pasture and watching the horses contentedly grazing there.
"Penny for your thoughts," the old man asked after a bit.
Jess grinned. "They ain't worth that much."
"Likely, you are right," Jonesy commented lightly.
It was silent for long moments, until Jonesy was nearly ready to head back to the house. Then, to his surprise, Jess spoke up, in a very quiet voice, "Seems like it feels good to be back here, I think."
"Psshh, boy, you think? Ain't no thinkin' about it."
Jess looked over at the old man, an eyebrow raised questioningly.
"Well, it was you decided to come back, wasn't it?" Jonesy probed.
The young man looked down at the ground now, almost shyly, and admitted, "Figured I owed all a ya' for messin' things up around here."
"Messin' things up?"
"Bringin' you my troubles."
"Like we ain't never seen trouble here before? Why, boy, we've seen more trouble than you ever thought of bringin'. More trouble than a whole regiment of Roanie Bishops and two full battalions of Jess Harpers."
Jess smiled. "I think you are exaggeratin', Jonesy."
"I don't exaggerate," the old man declared.
At that proclamation, Jess laughed out loud. "No, never. Not a bit."
Jonesy sat up straighter, his voice, and expression, suddenly more intense. "I don't. Not when it comes to important things, like people who belong here. And people who don't," he added, sternly.
The cowboy looked away, out toward the horizon. "An' which category do I belong in?"
"You have to ask?"
Jess sighed. "Maybe I do." He waved a hand toward the inside of the house. "I'm not sure how much forgivin' a beat-up old piano buys."
"It buys a lot," Jonesy answered firmly.
"From you, maybe. But I'm not so sure about Mr. Owner-of-this-ranch-and-relay-station Sherman."
"He welcomed you back, didn't he?" the old man demanded.
"I guess."
"You guess. Hmmph. I thought a young whippersnapper like you would be smarter than that. Why Slim Sherman, well, Slim don't invite just any man to hang around this spread. He's particular about who he hires on to this place. Yessiree. Real particular about who stays under his roof and hangs around with that kid brother he's in charge of raisin'. He takes that job almighty serious."
"I know he does, Jonesy."
"That's why he wasn't all that welcomin' to you, not at first."
Jess sighed. "People rarely are, to a man on the drift."
"Well, you ain't a man on the drift no more."
Jess shook his head uncertainly. "Don't know about that."
"Well, you're back here now, ain't ya?"
"Yeah. For now."
"For now. What kinda' answer is that? You know, you can't just ride onto a place and let people decide you're a friend, and then ride back out like it's nothin'. It means they're nothin' to you. And I know that ain't so. I saw how you took a shine to Andy, an' him to you. That boy needs a friend near as much as you do."
Jess looked over at Jonesy, noting how keenly the old man was studying his face, searching for something but what it was he wasn't sure.
"Oh, I know you don't want to admit it, boy, but you need a friend, too. Every man does. An' everyone needs a place where they're welcome, and that's what a home is, a place where a man is always welcome, like here."
The young man's answer was very soft, with a touch of wistfulness to it. "This ain't my home, Jonesy."
Jonesy noted that Jess' tone wasn't defiant or denying, it was sad. "Maybe it's not yet. But it could be, if'n you wanted it to be."
The conversation was getting uncomfortable for the drifter, and he instinctively tried to deflect the seriousness of the talk by chuckling and shaking his head. "Jonesy, I don't know where you think up all this stuff. You oughtta be writin' books or somethin'."
"Books. Hmmph. I ain't thinkin' it up. I'm seein' it with my own two eyes. A man would have to be blind not to see how Andy missed you when he thought you'd gone off for good with that no-account Roanie…"
"Aw, he's just a kid. He'd latch onto anybody who treated him like a grownup."
"Maybe. But you were the one who saw what he needed; you were the one saw that he needed someone to listen to him and his dreams."
"Anyone could'a done that."
"But anyone didn't, an' you did." Jonesy pointed out, triumphantly. He paused, softened his voice and told Jess a truth he figured no one else had, one he knew the young drifter needed to hear. "Near broke that boy's heart when you rode out with Roanie that mornin'. He moped around here like one a'those lost stray critters he's always bringin' home."
"The kid's had a rough life." There was a huskiness in Jess' tone that belied the effort he was making to be nonchalant.
"Darn right he has, losin' his ma and pa when he was just a little shaver. That was tough, but he's still got a home and a big brother lookin' after him, an' that's more than a lot of folks got out here." Jonesy saw a lost look cross the brash cowboy's face, but in a moment it was gone. "An' I'm thinkin' you could use some a' the same."
"I got friends," Jess answered defensively.
"Yeah, an' if any more of 'em are like Roanie Bishop, the big open won't be big enough for you to hide from the half of 'em."
Jess looked away. "You are just full of pearls of wisdom tonight, ain't ya, old man?"
"Hmmpph. Always am. Just don't always get a chance to share 'em."
The drifter looked away, sighed, and declared, "Whatever you say, Jonesy, but I can choose my own friends just fine."
"I've noticed the kind of friends you usually pick, like Pete Morgan and Roanie Bishop. I'm not sure who taught you what that word friend means, because you seem to have a peculiar take on it, real peculiar." Jonesy paused, then added. "And just to say what's as plain as the nose on your face, this time you picked yourself a good one, a good friend, comin' here."
"You?" Jess asked, amused.
"No. I'm talkin' about Slim Sherman."
Jess shook his head, his suddenly quiet voice revealing his uncertainty. "I'm not so sure he'll ever think of me as a friend."
"You ain't been payin' attention, then, boy. You're here, ain't ya? Slim could'a, and like as not should'a, sent you packin', piano or not. Instead, he's willin' to give you another chance."
"As a ranch hand. That don't make me a friend."
Jonesy tipped his hat back with one finger, glaring over at Jess. "Boy, you might have perfect eyesight when it comes to usin' that pistol of yours, but you can't see the broad side of a barn otherwise, can ya? You think a dozen drifters a month don't ride through here, lookin' for work? But it was you he offered a job to, outta the blue. Slim's one for pickin' up strays as much Andy. He needs you and you need him. And us."
"I work for my pay, Jonesy." Jess retorted defensively.
"Oh, I reckon you do. You can work, on the occasion you decide to put your mind to it…"
Jess bristled, but Jonesy went on.
"Slim expects that hard work, but he needs more'n that, more'n' just another dollar a day grubline rider, here today, gone tomorrow. An' if that's all you want out'ta life, out'ta bein' here, then we've all misjudged you, an' you might just as well saddle up right now an' head on back into the big open. But you know there's more, or you wouldn't a' went to all that trouble fixin' up that old piano."
"It was too good a piano to be turned into kindling."
Jonesy snorted derisively. "Right. You hung around Laramie a whole week just to save an old piano."
Jess didn't know what to say, and Jonesy went on, figuring that this was his one and only chance to speak his piece and he'd best make the most of it. "Jess Harper, you got the look of a man who's hankerin' for more than he's got. An' there's more here, if you're smart enough to see it."
"More?"
"More, ifn' you look for it. See, Slim, he's like you, he looks all complete on the outside. He's a steady man, a solid man, but, same as you, he needs a friend, too, as much as Andy does, mebbe even more. He's a young man, one who oughtta be cuttin' loose an' enjoyin' life, but instead he's shoulderin' the load of runnin' this relay station and this ranch and raisin' up his little brother, all for a goodly spell now. An' it's a heavy load, even for shoulders as broad as his."
"I ain't heard him complainin' none," Jess observed.
"An' you won't. He ain't that kind. He just sees a job and does it without waitin' to be asked. Oh, I'm sure you think this is an easy life he's got, inheritin' this ranch. An' mebbe it is, compared to how you've been livin', roamin' from place to place an' lookin' after yourself. But carin' night an' day for other folks is a bigger load than fendin' for yourself, no matter where a man starts. An' it don't get easier, no sirree it don't. So stick that in your craw and think on it."
Jess stared out into the darkness of the yard. "So you think I should stay?"
"I think you need to stay here. If not for yourself, then for the rest of us."
The young man said nothing for a long moment, digesting what he'd just heard, and what it meant. "That include you, too, Jonesy?"
"I reckon it does." A pause. "An' Jess Harper, if you ever repeat so much as a word of this palaver to anyone, I'll deny every word of it. Every single word. Hmmph." And with that, the old man got up and went inside, leaving Jess Harper with a lot to think about.
And a reason to stay.
Xx The End xX
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