THE MORNING AFTER
Jantallian
The winter sun rose imperceptibly above the eastern horizon into a sky the colour of the palest jade. As the dawn grew, the air seemed to take on a radiant glow as light was reflected from the deep blanket of snow. All was utterly still. A pure and holy peace lay lightly over everything and the total tranquillity was unbroken.
x
Jonesy was the first to stir. He might be the oldest inhabitant of the relay station, but he was also the earliest to wake every day. He missed the irritable shifting from the top bunk that usually greeted the dawn and it was some moments before he registered that he was sleeping in the guest room. He sat up and looked across to the other bed. The young man in it was sleeping deeply and, against all odds, his face was a healthy colour and his breathing was deep and regular, despite the savage wound in his upper chest. Jonesy lifted a prayer of devout thanks that no infection appeared to have set in, despite the nature of the injury. He got up stiffly, his back telling him that he had spent a long time bent over the operating table – but he reckoned it was a small price to pay for this young man's life and health. He dressed quietly and was about to leave the room, when a sound from the other bed made him turn back. He immediately lifted the young man in arms that were surprisingly strong and wiry for his age. "It's all right. Lucy an' the kid are safe in the next room!" The young man heaved a sigh of relief. Jonesy did not reveal that he was now the father of a healthy pair of twins, born in the night when Russ himself was struggling for his life – he figured that news was something that Lucy would want to break herself. He gave Russ a good drink of water and left him to doze off again. Jonesy made his way to the kitchen, noting thankfully as he did so that someone had washed up all the cooking pans from last night. He stoked up the stove and began to prepare a nourishing broth for his invalid as well as a hearty breakfast for everyone else. He did so more or less automatically, for his mind was running through the stores and working out what they could give Lucy and Russ in terms of a useful Christmas present. After a while, he returned to the bedroom and drew the curtains softly. The light of the new day flooded into the room like a healing tide.
x
Smudge, like Jonesy, was accustomed to rise early, but, unlike Jonesy, he knew instinctively that he was not at work. He opened one eye and took in the shadowy bunk-house and the sleeping forms in the other bunks. He closed his eyes again, a smile of pure thankfulness creasing his weathered face as he remembered the generosity of two young men that had meant that he was not spending Christmas in the Livery stable. And stables brought to mind the events of the previous night and the miraculous arrival of those tiny scraps of humanity. The smile changed to a grin of amusement, as he also remembered the angel and the gunman and the volatile but totally effectively level of practical co-operation they achieved. All the same, that wagon was a mess and the young couple who owned it were in need of more practical assistance if they were to continue safely on their way. Smudge thought through what he could do to repair the harness and the shafts as a small gift. Then he turned over, figuring he could indulge himself for once in sleeping for a while longer. The morning light was just beginning to creep under the shutters of the window.
x
Andy Sherman woke swiftly and completely with all the energy of youth. He sat up and nearly fell off the top bunk in which he was sleeping. For a moment he wondered where Jess was, since the top bunk was his, but then he realised that the bunks were not in the bedroom – the window and door were in the wrong place and the rough woodwork born no resemblance to what he was used to. He hung over the edge and saw his brother on the bunk below, sprawled in a tangle of blankets quite unlike his usual, orderly way of sleeping and suggesting that he had had a rough night. It had certainly been exciting – Andy remembered with joy the birth of the little donkey foal and the surprising arrival of two babies at almost the same time. The foal would have a good home right here at the relay station, but he knew that sooner or later, the little twins would be travelling onward with their parents. He remembered going up into the loft the night before to find old sheets for the operation on the young man, Russ. Surely up there, he had seen some toys, stored long ago when he had grown out of them? A pleased smile lit up his face as he anticipated being able to give another gift to this family for which he felt such responsibility. He dropped from the bunk to the floor and pulled on his clothes and jacket. Opening the door softly, he slipped out into the snowy yard. The marks of their footsteps between the barn and the house were still clear, but everywhere else a pristine covering of white blanketed the land. Long rays of the rising sun struck low across the near paddocks and the corral and warmed his face with a brightness echoing his own.
x
Chantal Picard was also an early riser, despite having retired rather later than all of the rest of inhabitants of relay station. She sat up cautiously, being unaccustomed to sleeping in a bunk bed. It was the top bunk too. She looked round the room, realising that this was the view that Jess must have every morning, except that the beds had different occupants. She could see Lucy, in the far bed, sleeping the light but profound sleep that nursing mothers perfect to meet the demands of their children. The babies were safely tucked into a couple of bureau drawers, which had been emptied and utilised as improvised cradles. The contents of the drawers were on the floor under the window – several piles of neatly folded clothes which obviously belonged to Slim and an untidy jumble of miscellaneous and seriously battered garments which could only be Jess's. The little boy, Nathan, was curled up in the other bed, still profoundly asleep and impervious to the events of the previous night. Chantal slid to the floor and looked affectionately at Sally, sleeping in the bottom bunk. Sally, without whose skill Jonesy might not have been able to save Russ. Sally who had become such a close and trusted friend. Sally who had invited her for Christmas, setting in train the events that had led Chantal to the experiences of last night. She dressed quietly and followed her nose to the kitchen. Her sense of smell was good and, sure enough, she found that Jonesy had already brewed a pot of coffee. As he was nowhere in evidence, she guessed that he was attending to Russ. She filled a mug with the strong, black brew and headed out to the barn. Climbing the ladder to the hayloft quietly, with only one hand, was no mean feat, but she eased herself carefully through the hatch without spilling a drop of the precious fluid. She looked across the heaped hay to the deep hollow and the figure lying in it, wrapped in his bedroll. His gun-belt was coiled within easy reach of his outstretched hand. Approaching a sleeping gunman was fraught with danger, but Chantal knew there was no way that he would not recognise her presence. She put down the mug on a convenient bale and prepared to wait for the aroma of the coffee to do its waking work. Time enough to plan, in addition to the sheepskin coat she had already donated, what they could give Lucy and Russ and their children in grateful recognition for what the two of them had gained last night. Right now, Jess was lying stretched on his left side, one knee hitched up, ready for action, but his face was relaxed and somehow much younger and more vulnerable than he would ever allow himself to be when awake. The growing light streamed through the skylight. The woven strands of hay turned to a gleaming net and the dark hair of the sleeping man was edged with gold.
x
Sally Travers deserved a good lie-in, but she came from a hardy and hard-working household. It was not long after Chantal had left the big bunk-room, that her eyes opened and she looked across to the little family, secure in sleep. She smiled a smile of deep satisfaction. Man, woman and children were all safe, as they should be, and as soon as Russ could be moved, they could be reunited in this very room. Of course that would mean that the proper inhabitants of the room would have to bed down elsewhere, but she knew that they would do so willingly. It would be at least a week before any of the visitors were fit to move on, so they would clearly be spending Christmas at the relay station. She wished she could get a message home, as she could think of several useful additions to Lucy's wardrobe that she could contribute – not fancy stuff, but hard-wearing and practical like Sally herself. That might have to wait beyond the traditional day for giving, but she would be only too happy to come back with her gifts when she was able. It was characteristic that she took no account at all of the gift of medical skill that she had already contributed to Russ's survival. Instead she thought gratefully of Slim's constancy and strength – the total steadiness with which he had held that lamp illuminating the surgery for them for so many hours. It was just like him, she thought, warm and rock-solid and shining – and as constant as the sunrise that was calling her up and out into the life of a new day.
x
Early rising was not Jess Harper's natural habit and those who knew him well had been wont to compare his behaviour on being dragged from sleep to various things from a snarling wild cat to an erupting volcano. The warm light of the new day touched his cheek softly and his nose wrinkled as he took in sleepily the welcome scent of coffee. He yawned, stretched and sat up in one fluid movement. "I've died and gone to heaven!" His eyes were still screwed tight shut as his two hands clasped the mug with reverence. "Nobody brings me coffee in bed!" Refraining from pointing out that she had spent the night in his bunk, Chantal told him: "You aren't in bed. And if you were, you certainly wouldn't be getting coffee!" Jess drank half the mug and then opened his eyes. The erstwhile angel was sitting on a bale of hay, regarding him with a grin that suggested he was not the only one recalling certain moments of the previous evening to which no-one else was privy. He finished the coffee, dumped the mug, rolled out of his bedding and proceeded to consolidate those developments in no uncertain manner. Then he hauled Chantal to her feet and said briskly,"C'm on. There's stock needs tendin' to below." He was already thinking of the black teamster that had caused the disastrous wreck of the little wagon and working out how he could provide a more reliable horse when the family set off once more on their travels. "I'll muck out an' you can get on with the water an' feedin'." As she followed him to the ladder, Chantal laughed in sheer companionship, throwing back her head so that the cloud of her hair sparkled like a drift of snow in the bright sunlight.
x
Quite uncharacteristically, Slim Sherman was the last to wake. He had had a bad night. To begin with his arms ached and throbbed with the strain put on muscle and sinew and nerves by holding that lamp steady for so long. His head throbbed too with thoughts about the people sheltering in his home. With Andy, he was delighted, despite the teasing he had received, for his brother had proved beyond doubt his sense of responsibility and his reliability in an emergency. This was something Slim had sometimes doubted in the face of Andy's teenage rebellion, but now he knew he need have no fears. For the little family they had rescued because of Andy's intervention, he worried and prayed that Russ would not develop a fever and Lucy would have no complications from the birth of the twins and that the babies would be resilient and thrive. He thought with continuing surprise about how those babies had been delivered. He still wasn't sure how and why Chantal had arrived on the scene and just exactly what she and Jess had gone through together. And why, afterwards, when everyone else had eaten, they had turned up much too late for supper and wrangled vigorously in the kitchen over the correct way to scramble eggs. When everyone else had turned in, exhausted, he had stayed awake, expecting Jess to join them in the bunkhouse. After a while of Smudge's stentorian snoring, he realised crossly that this absence might have been deliberate. As it was, his own sleep was troubled by dreams of avalanches and rock-falls and other noisy occurrences. He woke in broad daylight to find himself alone. But the bright sunshine filled the rough bunkhouse with a deep, glowing warmth that reminded him of Sally. It reminded him too of his own resolution the previous night to make sure that the family were provided with the modern equivalent of the gift of gold. He dressed slowly, still favouring his sore arms and made his way out into the yard, and from thence to the barn. Just as he entered, he saw a pair of familiar boots descending the loft-ladder, followed by a slender, shining figure clutching a coffee mug.
x
Andy made straight for the donkey's stall to check on the well-being of mother and foal. He was kneeling beside them when he heard, unexpectedly, movement in the hayloft above and the sound of voices. He had scarcely jumped to his feet, suspecting that some drifter had chosen to spend the night in their barn, when Slim came through the main doors. At the same time, Andy realised that a drifter had spent the night in the barn, only one with a perfect right to do so. Jess jumped the last few feet from the ladder and landed lightly. He extended his arms and caught Chantal, who had followed him down. Andy looked at them, puzzled, and then at the expression on Slim's face, with growing confusion. There was something going on here that he did not have the adult experience to interpret clearly. In the nick of time, Sally entered hard on Slim's heels. She laughed and embraced Chantal as she had done the previous night: "You're an early riser! And you deserve a medal for bribing Jess to get up before lunch-time!"
x
Of all those involved in the rescue of the Donovan family, the Travers must have risen earliest. A substantial breakfast had scarcely been consumed at the relay station, when the whole Travers clan arrived in the yard, Dan and the boys on horseback and Martha with the little ones in their light wagon. They tumbled and erupted onto the porch and overflowed the living room, where Jonesy was swift to ply everyone with coffee. Delighted hugs were exchanged all round. Martha was quick to spot the bandage showing under Jess's sleeve, but equally quick to realise without being told that someone other than Jonesy had put it there. She regarded Chantal with a thoughtful smile, sensing intuitively that Sally might have had other motives than just friendship for inviting this young woman to share their Christmas. Like everyone else, the Travers had been considering what they could contribute to help the rescued family. The result was a parcel of baby clothes, which Martha had been saving for just such an occasion, and two thick fur robes, made of fine beaver pelt, the best insulation that anyone could want – it took Slim and Jess straight back to the events of last Christmas Eve and they were fully appreciative of the generosity of this gift. The Travers had brought more apple logs too and some fresh game and venison, which they insisted that the increased household of the ranch should accept. Everyone piled out into the yard to help unload this bounty.
x
Lucy was the last to wake, although her sleep had been light. It was Nathan's stirring that drew her to consciousness and she had hardly realised that it was day before his little body hurled across the intervening space and burrowed into her arms. She hugged him close and then gently showed him the twins, still miraculously sound asleep. "Let's find your Pa," she said softly. She rose from the bed and pulled on the thick, wool robe that someone had provided. Then she carefully picked up first one and then the other baby, a skill that she knew she would perfect very soon through much practice. Nathan held tight to the folds of her robe and they all slipped quietly from the bunk-room and into the little guest room. Lucy sat down on the vacant bed and pulled the covering blankets around the four of them. They waited quietly in the soft, pure light and warmth, for Russ to open his eyes so that they would be a complete family once again. When it came, the moment was one of heart-stopping, inexpressible joy, not least because both Lucy and Russ realised how much of their safe reunion had depended upon the gifts of generosity and love of those who had been total strangers. And, as yet, they had no knowledge of the gifts to come!
Notes:
Acknowledgement: For all chapters: The great creative writing of the 'Laramie' series is respectfully acknowledged. My stories are purely for pleasure and are inspired by the talents of the original authors, producers and actors.
Reading order for the stories relating to Jess's encounters with Chantal: A List and Three Black Eyes, The Company of Strangers, Bearing Gifts, The Morning After.