"Hey, Jess!" Mose shouted from atop the new coach as it prepared to pull out of the yard. This one had been in service for about a month – purchased to replace the one lost in an attack in the desert that left Jess, the driver, and several passengers stranded.

"Yeah, Mose?" Jess Harper turned back. To look at him now, you'd never know he nearly died out there that week. His cracked lips had healed, and his arm wound was reduced to just a twinge now and then. Not that he would ever admit to it.

"I almost forgot! This letter came to Laramie for you, tagged for 'general delivery.' I told the postmaster I'd bring it out on my run." Mose fished around in his pocket and drew out a letter, crinkled at the corners but otherwise in good shape. "Mail from some pretty girl, Jess?"

"He wishes," Slim said with a grin, giving his best friend a playful shove.

"The only girl I'm interested in right now is waiting for me in town, and her name is Lottie. So let's get this box movin'!" Jess slapped one of the horses on the rump, not enough to really get it moving, but it incited Mose to whip up the entire team and shortly he was pulling away from the station.

"So who's the letter from?" Slim asked, curious.

Jess took his first opportunity to truly study the letter. "Postmark says Green River, California? Who do I know there?"

"Don't ask me, pard!"

"Yet, it somehow seems familiar."

"I know a really good way to find out," Slim suggested.

"How?"

"Open it!" Slim laughed, and Jess actually blushed.

He tore open the envelope and removed a single sheet of paper in a handwriting he didn't recognize. It was on military letterhead. His brow furrowed as he began to read.

Dear Mr. Harper,

You don't know me, but I am Captain Jonathan Nelson, an officer in the US Army out of Green River, California. You recently had the courtesy to be riding shotgun on a stage containing, among other passengers, my wife, Grace. I felt compelled to write to thank you for protecting her and seeing that she made it out of the ordeal more or less intact. She has told me all about the trip, what you all went through, and I can honestly say that I consider you a hero. You'd likely deny it, based on what Grace has told me, but you kept her and another woman alive, even as your own health failed, and that is very heroic. Thank you.

Now it's confession time. While you all were fighting to survive out on the desert, I was making plans to divorce my wife. Over the recent years, she had become cold and selfish, only interested in living well and among the elite. She had little tolerance for those who labored, or those who struggled to survive doing whatever they had to in order to do so. This was a situation I realized I could no longer stand, as her attitude was beginning to affect my life. So I was going to end our marriage and leave her to fend for herself.

You'll note, I said I WAS going to do so. This woman who came out of the desert, and I don't know how you did it, is truly a changed person. Where before she was cold and judgmental, now she is friendly and warm – truly the woman I married once again. Whatever you and the others did to elicit this change in her, it has saved our marriage. We are again in love like we were as teenagers, and Grace has a joy for life that she previously was lacking. We're even talking about having a child, and if we have a son, I'd dearly like to name him after you. I know you probably don't see the point, but it's something we both have discussed and really want to do.

Lastly, Grace has also spoken of a woman who was traveling with you who also helped her a great deal. I wished to write her as well, but all Grace knew was that her first name was Lottie. Do you know where she is now? I would very much like to write her a letter of thanks as well. Besides, Charlotte would be a very pretty name for a daughter, don't you think?

And with that, I draw this letter to a close. Please know how much we appreciate what you did, and how much it means to me that you watched over my wife when in a situation that I could not. If I'm ever in Wyoming, I'll be sure to stop and thank you in person, but until then, please accept my sincerest appreciation.

Yours truly,

Captain Jonathan Nelson

"So what's it say?" Slim asked as Jess finished reading and re-folded the letter.

"Oh, nothing. Just an acquaintance saying hello." But his subdued smile told Slim that it was more than that – just something Jess didn't wish to discuss. Jess returned to the house to get ready for his dinner with Lottie.

Later that night, home alone, Slim turned out the lights in the main room and went to the bunkroom to get some sleep. And there, on the dresser, was the mysterious envelope. Unable to resist, he opened the envelope and drew out the letter. He read slowly, the pride he felt in his friend growing, and then, there in near darkness of the empty house, he smiled.

Jess had been decidedly tight-lipped about what happened on that trip, giving general information only, but no specifics. He had no doubt that Jess' innate heroism had shown itself in the way he protected those passengers, and the two women in particular. No friend could be more proud than he was at that moment. But he wouldn't let on that he knew, or Jess would just be embarrassed. So he re-folded the letter and put it back in the envelope, positioning it exactly as he'd found it so his friend would never know that he'd read it. But he made a mental note to remember the name: Grace Nelson. Another of the names that Slim documented in secret of the people Jess had helped since coming to Laramie. Some day, far in the future, he'd share them with Jess' kids. For now, they stayed a secret that nobody knew about but Slim himself.

Stripping down to his long johns, Slim crawled into bed and turned down the lamp, falling asleep with a smile on his face.