The One

by HattieLynn

"If she doesn't scare you to death sometimes, she's not the one." (The author of quote is unknown.) This story takes place five years after Slim and Jess met.

THE CHURCH PICNIC

Mid-April

Being as the ranch was twelve miles from town, an hour's ride both ways, Daisy didn't insist on weekly church attendance; however, once or twice a month the whole family packed into the wagon to ride to Laramie for a mandatory Sunday service. To Daisy's way of thinking giving Mike a religious education was an important part of her duty to him. And it didn't hurt Slim and Jess to have a sermon preached over them on a regular basis either.

And so on a clear spring morning Daisy preceded her little flock to the open doors of the Laramie Community Church. She happily greeted her lady friends, nodded to the minister and sailed down the middle aisle to her accustomed pew on the right. This spot was conveniently located midway to the pulpit, and if not directly under the preacher's nose, it was situated squarely in his line of view. This seemed to have a calming influence on Jess and Mike.

With long-practiced firmness, Daisy directed Mike into the pew ahead of her. With equal firmness, Slim nudged Jess in front of him, thus safely wedging Jess between himself and Daisy and separating him from Mike. Sometimes it could be a very long service.

The Sherman family stood for the first hymn, Shall We Gather at the River, a favorite of all, sung with more enthusiasm than skill, even by Mike who seemed to know all the words.

After a prayer or two and a few announcements, Preacher McDaniel took the pulpit and with a lively imagination and a flair for the dramatic expounded on the 25th Chapter of the Gospel of Mathew. His sonorous voice rose with exhortation and lowered with warning as he abjured the citizens of Laramie to repent of their wicked ways and examine themselves for faults that might cause them to fail the test on Judgement Day.

"Are you a goat or a sheep?" he thundered as his fierce eye swept across the alarmed assembly. "A goat or a sheep?"

Jess' dark brows angled a bit as he pondered the question. In some ways he was a sheep and in a lot of other ways a goat. "It don't seem all that clear to me," he thought. "Some sheep are awfully troublesome, the dumbest animal I know of. On the other hand goats are useful. They eat weeds and give good milk and they're a scrappy bunch. They'll butt heads with anything that moves. Sometimes withj things that don't."

Just then, Jess lost what little focus he had on the sermon, being distracted by a movement in the pew a couple of rows in front of him. It was a feather, several feathers actually, white and attached to a hat, a triangle of purple velvet edged with green braid that sat tilted well forward on a young woman's head. The hair beneath the hat was shimmering, gold and red strands catching the sunlight from the church window. Jess noticed that some fragments of the gold-red hair escaped the pins meant to confine it. Delicate tendrils and airy curlicues drifted up and away from the girl's head. In fact, fine wisps of her hair were springing out from her head in all directions. "Sort of like a cat's hair," Jess thought, "when the weather's real dry." Jess watched the hair and the feathers tangle softly together as the girl bobbed and nodded her head in seeming agreement with the preacher's words or more hopefully, to some inner, happier tune of her own.

Entranced, Jess missed the cue for the final hymn. Slim pulled him to his feet and shoved the songbook toward him, recalling him to the proceedings. This was a song Jess didn't know, something about bringing in the sheep, or was it sheaves? He sang snatches of the tune in his low baritone, feeling slightly shy about his ignorance and listening to Slim's confident tenor beside him. But over and above all the other voices, he heard an angel's voice, light and sweet, full of conviction. The voice seemed to be coming from the girl with the hat.

Amid the thump of hymnals being replaced, a final blessing was given and the congregation dismissed. Conversation broke out as people made an orderly exit from the church.

There was extra excitement in the air for today was the day for the spring picnic. Daisy and the other women dropped their responsibility for the good behavior of their families and concentrated on collecting baskets of food from buggies and wagons and spreading the feast out on the makeshift tables the men set up earlier that morning.

Released from confinement, Mike dodged and darted his way through the crowd and disappeared at a run to parts unknown. Slim grabbed his Sunday dress hat off the peg in the narthex, set it on his head at a jaunty angle and went off looking for Marcy Benson, part owner of Laramie's general store. Jess, on the other hand, held back, waiting close to the church doors where congregants were lined up to shake the preacher's hand before moving off toward the picnic tables.

At last she appeared, trailing behind a well-dressed woman who stopped to introduce herself to the preacher.

"I am Mrs. Brock," she said with a smile. Gesturing toward the young woman behind her, she added, "And this is my daughter, Arabella."

Preacher McDaniel smiled expansively and shook hands with both of them. "Delighted, dear ladies. Delighted to meet you." New tithers were always welcomed. "I believe I met your two sons last Sunday. They told me you would be arriving this week. I hope you had a safe journey?"

"Very safe," Mrs. Brock said. "The railroad brought us as far as Cheyenne. My sons met us there. I'm sorry they couldn't be here for the service today."

"Fine young men. Fine young men. A wonderful addition to our community. Will you be staying in town then?" he asked solicitously.

"Only for today. The boys will be along this afternoon to take us out to the ranch. They've been putting some finishing touches on our rooms."

Arabella quickly lost interest in this rather tedious chit-chat. With a polite nod to the preacher she wandered away from the church toward the picnic tables. She didn't notice Jess who watched her go, his face as impassive as only a gunfighter's can be.

As casually as a boy trailing a fishing line along a stream, Jess followed her, his black hat set low on his forehead, his blue eyes intent on the slow swirl of her skirt as she moved across the yard.

He paused when she paused, and he stopped when she stopped at the desert table. It was loaded from one end to the other with layer cakes, dried apple pies and every variety of cookie known to the women of Laramie. As Arabella studied the offerings, she quietly slipped off her Sunday-go-to-meeting gloves and with a covert swipe of a finger brought a dab of fluffy white cake icing to her lips. She savored this delicacy with all the pleasure of a five year old child before realizing she was in a dilemma. She'd snitched too much of the gooey stuff and a hunk of it was sliding down her finger toward the palm of her hand.

Mischievous inspiration quirked up the corners of Jess' mouth more than usual. He pulled a red checkered handkerchief from his coat pocket and with a few quick strides came up behind her.

"This might come in handy 'bout now," he said in his most gravelly voice.

Arabella twirled around to face him, one hand dripping with icing, the other sprung out in surprise. The gloves slipped from her grasp and fell to the ground. She and Jess dove to retrieve them at the same time – and both came back up at the same time. In the dive, Jess' hat fell off and in the rising, his dark head struck Arabella's fine drawn chin bone just hard enough to knock her off balance. With a small shriek, she fell backwards, pushing the planks of the table off the sawhorses that supported them. Cakes and pies and cookies slid to the ground. Arabella landed on top of all of it.

Tossing aside the gloves he'd picked up, Jess scrambled to her rescue. He shoved fragments of white cake and a few boards out of his way and scooped Bella up, cradling her like a child, or a husband carrying a new wife over the threshold. Underneath yards of cotton sateen, Bella was surprisingly light, easy to hold. As he straightened up with her in his arms, he caught a whiff of ginger spice. Was it the cake or just her? He didn't know. Time seemed to slow down. Her arms were clamped around his neck, her vivid blue eyes locked on his, her mouth parted in surprise…? In wonder….? In ….

Jess' face softened into an expression of both curiosity and delight. His own lips parted. Under a compulsion he had no wish to resist, his head bent toward hers and he kissed her, a kiss as gentle as it was firm, as tender as it was deep. And she kissed him back, her arms tightening around him in a grip that seemed determined to never let him go.

But then, several thing happened at once. An iron hand fell on Jess' shoulder just as an unseen force pulled Bella out of his arms. A heartbeat later, a stunned Jess was socked in the jaw hard enough to knock him into the nearby side-dish table. This time it was potato salad and pinto beans, pickled beets and cole slaw that spilled unceremoniously to the ground, Jess sprawled out on top of them.

A general outcry erupted. People came on the run to see what was happening.

Jess was struggling to get up when he saw Slim step between him and two tall, slender cowboys dressed in remnants of Confederate grey. Both young men were bristling with anger and glaring at Jess with murder in their eyes.

Slim did some bristling of his own. "Now hold on…" he commanded just before one of the cowboys punched him too, landing him in the vegetable debris beside Jess.

Slim and Jess looked at each other, two pairs of blue eyes communicating wordlessly. In unison they charged to their feet, each man targeting one cowboy apiece.

By now, everyone in the congregation and a few passerby's had gathered around, some to cheer the combatants on, some trying to stop them. In the end, it was the preacher and the deacons who bravely waded into the fray, interposing their own bodies among the fighters to break them apart.

Daisy and the women closed around Arabella in a protective circle, but when the fighting stopped Miss Daisy broke rank and hurried to Slim and Jess, clucking over them, exclaiming, "Oh, my goodness. Oh, you boys. Just look at you, fighting! And at church!" Then she noticed Jess wiping some blood from his mouth. "Oh, Jess!" she lamented. "Oh, your poor face!"

With a sigh, Slim wiped blood off his own face. "Even Daisy thinks it's a catastrophe when Jess is hurt," he thought with a rueful shrug of his eyebrows and a sigh of acceptance. "So do I," he admitted to himself.

Mike, as curious as anyone else, had already decided no major damage had been done to his buddies. He commenced searching through the wreckage for salvageable bits of nourishment. He selected some pickles that could be washed off and found a whole apple pie that had miraculously been preserved intact. Clutching these treasures, he moved off a little way from the crowd and settled down to see what would happen next.

As the four young men were dusting themselves off, Mrs. Brock strode up to confront the two in grey. "Wade! Francis! What is going on here? You weren't expected until later this afternoon. What in the world are you doing, fighting like this?"

"Mamma," the young man she addressed as Francis pleaded, "It wasn't our fault! That cowpoke," he pointed to Jess, "was kissing Bella right out here in front of everybody! We had to do something!"

Slim's head jerked around toward Jess. "You were fighting over a woman?" he snapped.

"Now, wait, Slim," Jess said, "You don't understand."

"Understand what?" Slim yelled. "You were kissing a woman? At church?"

"It was my fault." A strong, clear voice sang out from the throng of women. Bella stepped forward. Her hat had disappeared and her hair was tumbling down around her shoulders. She lifted her chin, heedless of her frosting stained dress. Her eyes locked on Jess. "He was only trying to help me. You see, I… tripped … and accidentally knocked over the table…." She gestured toward the ruined food.

Mrs. Brock and her two sons all seemed to sigh at the same time.

"Bella," Mrs. Brock gave voice to their thoughts, "not again?"

The impassive look returned to Jess' face. "Again?" he thought.

Mrs. Brock took a deep breath, drew herself up to her full 5' 4" statue and took charge of the situation.

"Arabella, since your brothers are here, I think it is time for us to leave for the ranch." She took in the assembled Laramidians with a sweeping glance and a small bow. "My apologies to you all," she said and turned away.

Jess suddenly felt bereft. It was Daisy who came to his rescue.

"Oh, please don't go," she exclaimed, approaching Mrs. Brock and laying a restraining hand on her arm. "We mustn't let this spoil our good time. We still have all the food we need. You men," she ordered, "put those tables back together. And ladies," she gave the women her most winning smile, "let's see what we can pull out of our sleeves. The picnic must go on!"

Everyone pitched in to reclaim what could be reclaimed. Like the story of the loaves and the fishes, meats, baked beans, fresh bread and plates of deviled eggs quickly materialized on the reassembled tables.

While this miracle was occurring, Slim hauled Jess off to the edge of the churchyard where Jess furiously and futilely tried to explain to his irate partner what had happened, not that he really understood it himself.

On the other side of the yard, Mrs. Brock tried to tack her daughter's hair back in place while her two sons leaned in close to her, also trying to explain themselves. Arabella stood passively, allowing herself to be tugged and primped into presentable condition, but her eyes scanned the crowd, following Jess' every move.

Life among the picnickers gradually returned to normal as people ate and drank, talked and laughed and spun the fight into the most entertaining versions possible. After all this was Laramie. A sudden brawl and an equally sudden peace were not all that uncommon.

The festivities began to draw to a close. Slim, Jess and Mike were helping Daisy load her hampers into the wagon in preparation for the ride home when Mrs. Brock and all her children approached them.

Mrs. Brock addressed Daisy. "Mrs. Cooper," she said, the name having been supplied to her by Preacher McDaniel, "perhaps we should actually introduce ourselves before offering our apologies one more time." She held out her hand to Daisy. "I am Mrs. Josie Brock." She was very poised, her greying head erect, her manner cordial. "I think you already know my daughter, Arabella."

"Why, Mrs. Brock," Daisy said, taking her hand. "How very nice of you! It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

By now Slim had a fairly accurate idea of what had preceded the fight and he bore no ill will toward the family. In fact, he thought it was Jess who probably owed them an apology. He tipped his hat in greeting. "Slim Sherman, "he said pleasantly. "Welcome to Laramie."

All of the Brocks blanched as if cold water had been tossed in their faces. "Mr. Sherman," Mrs. Brock said feebly. Even Arabella seemed to draw back, repelled. "Sherman," she whispered.

A light dawned in Slim's eyes. The soft "r"s, the delicacy of Mrs. Brock's manners, the Confederate grey of her son's jackets. The Brocks were Southerners.

"No relation to the General," he added, amicably. "My family's from Illinois."

Relief rippled through the Brock family. Mrs. Brock recovered first.

"Oh, of course, Mr. Sherman, of course." She held out her hand to be shaken as a gesture of peace. "I'm so sorry. We're from South Carolina, you see. Columbia."

Compassion now mixed with understanding in Slim's eyes. "It was a terrible war, Mrs. Brock. I'm glad it's over."

"Oh, yes," Daisy said, clasping her hands together, wringing them, knowing for herself the terrible price the war had exacted. "Everyone lost so much."

Mrs. Brock recollected herself. "Well, that is all behind us now." Returning to her objective, she nodded to the fair-haired young men standing beside her. "This is my oldest son, Wade," she said of the man on her right. "And this," she indicated the other man, "is Francis."

Both men touched their hands to their hats, but Francis didn't miss the glimmer of laughter that flashed across Jess's face. He knew its cause.

"Named for Francis Marion," he said staring directly at Jess. "The Swamp Fox. Helped to win the Revolution. Ever hear of him?" There was a dare in his voice.

"Sure I have," Jess lied. His mother hadn't covered that part of American history in the little schooling she'd been able to give him. Besides, Texas had enough heroes of its own. Everybody knew Sam Houston had won the most important revolution, the Texas Revolution. And anyway, what kind of name was Francis? He had a sister named Francie, for Pete's sake.

Slim broke up this subdued exchange of hostilities by slapping Jess a little harder on the shoulder than necessary and saying, "This is my partner, Jess Harper."

Jess tipped his hat to Mrs. Brock. "Ma'am," he said politely, then his eyes, impassive and alert, slid over to Arabella.

All of a sudden Mike's head popped up from the other side of the wagon. "Well, what about me?" He piped up. "Don't I got a name?"

"Oh, Mike. Of course you do," said Daisy, gesturing toward him. "This is Mike Williams, our youngest member. Now climb in, everyone," she directed her family. "We need to get back to the ranch in time for the evening chores." She turned graciously to Mrs. Brock. "It was a pleasure to meet you all. I hope we'll see you again very soon."

"Thank you, Mrs. Cooper," Mrs. Brook replied with a nod.

All the Brocks except Arabella turned to go. She stood gazing at Jess. He was gazing back.

Slim saw the look. He sighed and gave his partner a shove toward the wagon. "Our boy's gone loco," he thought, resigned. "I wonder how it will end this time."

The homeward bound group were quiet on the ride back to the ranch. Daisy was tired out and Mike, leaning against her, was asleep. Slim was wondering whether he should ask Marcy to accompany him to the next dance and Jess was reviewing the morning's activities step by step. What the heck had happened? One minute he was sitting in church minding his own business and the next he was kissing a girl in public and getting into a brouhaha with her brothers. And what did they mean by "Not again?"

THE HORSE AND THE BAD MEN

The First Week of May

Saturday

Spring came on fast that year and with the warmer weather came a chore list a mile long. Fence posts knocked over by snowdrifts had to be replaced, bob-wire restrung, out-buildings repaired. A couple weeks of hard work made Slim and Jess more than ready for the monthly Saturday night dance in town.

They rode into Laramie early on the big day, planning to stay the night at the hotel. The hours before the dance would be used to buy supplies that Daisy would pick up when she and Mike came to town for church tomorrow.

Since the kiss and the fight at the picnic, Jess had tried his best to put Arabella Brock out of his mind. After all, she was a decent woman, one of Jess' worst fears. And Slim was already mooning over Marcy Benson. "We don't need another complication," Jess told himself.

Laramie was busy that day. The streets were full of ranchers and their families doing what Slim and Jess were doing, getting their shopping out of the way before the dance.

Slim headed for the general store after the horses were settled at the livery stable. . "You go see if that chicken feed we ordered has come in yet," he told Jess. "I'll take care of Daisy's shopping list."

"Sure, Slim. Sure," Jess said as he watched his partner's back disappear in Marcy's direction. "You got it bad, Pard," he added with wry affection before turning toward Smith's Feed and Seed to carry out his mission. He was reaching for the store's weathered doorknob when he caught sight of a tawny dun horse tethered at the hitching post in front of the haberdashery. The chicken feed was forgotten. Jess instantly changed course toward the young mare.

She was about 15 hands high, a dark dorsal stripe running down the middle of her back to a glossy black tail. She whickered and turned her head her to take a look at Jess as he stroked one of her striped legs and ran his hand through her black mane. He was lost in wonder. He hadn't seen a little Spanish horse like this since his days in the Texas panhandle. Where had she come from?

His question was answered when Arabella, Francis trailing along behind her, emerged from the haberdashery store. She wore a fashionable split riding skirt to match her new green hat. Her eyes widen in surprise when she saw Jess. Where had he come from?

"Why, Mr. Harper!" she exclaimed. A delighted smile lit up her whole face. "I'm so happy to see you!"

"Bella…," Jess was stunned.

Francis had the same blue eyes as his sister, eyes that locked on Jess with instant suspicion.

"Take it easy with that horse, Harper. She's a Tacky horse out of South Carolina and we think highly of her."

"A Tacky horse?" Jess repeated, his hand still tangled in the mane. He was caught between looking at Bella and wanting to inspect the little mare. "I ain't never heard of them before."

"A Marsh Tacky horse," Bella volunteered eagerly. "A descendant of the horses the Spanish brought into Florida. We've had them in our family for generations. They're kind of a South Carolina specialty."

Jess was clearly fascinated, both by the horse and by the girl. Francis decided to reclaim his attention.

"General Marion," he stated, with a hard stare at Jess, "Francis Marion used them to outfight the British. They're small but tough as pine knots. They could go in and out of the swamps in the Low Country where the English couldn't follow. That's why they call Marion the Swamp Fox. He was a cousin of ours, a couple of generations back."

Jess was impressed and didn't try to hide it. He ran a knowing hand over the horse's withers. "Yeah," he said, "She's strong all right."

Francis watched his admiring inspection of the dun and he began to relax some. Maybe this cowpoke had some redeeming features after all. Bella was certain of it.

"Mr. Harper…. Jess," she said. "Why don't you join us at the cafe for some coffee? We were just on our way there now."

Jess' eyes warmed with a smile as he looked at her, studying her like he'd studied the horse.

"Sure," he said, then shot a quick glance at Francis. "That is if it's OK with your brother."

The tension fell away from Francis' lean body. "Come on, Jess," he smiled. "Millie is a good cook. Or so I hear."

The little group strolled over to the cafe and spent a pleasant half hour talking to each other. They had a lot in common, from Jess' and Francis' service in the Confederate Army to the discovery of distant kinfolk in Texas. To the three young people, the South was still a small world, filled with their fertile Scot-Irish relatives who kept migrating to greener pastures and cheaper land. All these wandering kin seemed to know each other - or at least - of each other. Playing "who do you know?" was an entertaining conversational topic for Southerners like them.

The chicken feed was forgotten, which was OK because Slim had spent most of his time at the General Store flirting with Marcy. Supplies were on the on the bottom of everybody's mind. They all emerged into the street at about the same time, Slim and Marcy from the general store, Bella, Francis and Jess from the cafe. They were all laughing and talking a mile a minute when Bella suddenly cried out, "Darcy! Oh, Francis! Darcy is gone!"

And she was. The hitching post was empty except for Francis' horse who stood with one hoof lifted, idly flipping his tail, unconcerned about Darcy's absence.

In a heartbeat, Francis transformed from a genial young man into a fighting mad ex-soldier.

"Damn!" He cursed with conviction. "The Hesters! I knew I saw them sneaking around the ranch the other day. I should have listened to Wade." He ran full speed toward his horse and yanked the reins into his hands as he mounted. "They can't be long gone," he shouted to his sister. "They'll be heading toward Cheyenne and the railroad. You go tell Wade what's happened."

"Wait up!" Jess yelled. "I'll go with you!"

Slim's attention was jerked away from Marcy when he saw Jess pelting toward the livery stable.

"What the hell is he up to now?" he asked to no one in particular and took off after him. Wherever Jess was going in such a hurry, he was going, too. Marcy was left standing bewildered in the middle of the street.

At first Bella was uncertain what to do. Wade was a good half hour away and what help could he be anyway? As she watched Jess and Slim thunder out of town, her mouth tightened in resolve. After all, Darcy belonged to her. She ran to the livery stable, hired old Jonas' fastest horse, flung off her new hat and followed the men at a gallop.

The Hesters, a no good pair of brothers from the South Carolina Low County, knew Francis would be coming after them. Darcy was a valuable horse, well worth the train fare to the Chicago horse market. The Brocks wouldn't surrender her lightly. About ten miles out of Laramie, the Hesters, intent on bushwhacking Francis, drew their horses off the road and hid themselves behind a couple of the tall boulders abundant in the area. What they hadn't planned on was Francis being accompanied by the two riders coming with him. Nevertheless, they felt up to the task. Marvin, the older brother, drew a bead on Jess, a good bead. The rifle popped and Jess fell of his horse, a bullet punching a hole in his thigh. Slim and Francis dived for cover and returned fire, separating in an attempt to surround the enemy.

Gun in hand, Jess managed to drag himself off the road and under the shelter of one the big rocks. He knew the wound was bad. He was already feeling lightheaded from shock and blood loss. But worse still, through a pain-filled haze, he saw Bella, bent low over her horse, riding down the road toward him.

"No!" Jess yelled, struggling to stand up. "Bella! Get back!" He collapsed immediately, his strength spent, but Bella had seen him. She reined in her horse, jumped from the saddle and threw herself to the ground beside him.

"Oh, you're hurt!" she cried, trying stop the blood pouring from his leg with her hand. "Oh, Jess!"

"I'm fine," he growled. "Go on, now," he said, pushing her away. "Get out of here."

The effort was too much for him. He fell back, unconscious, as Bella whispered fiercely, "I won't leave you," and looked around for something to use as a bandage. She started untying his bandanna but froze when she heard the fall of loose gravel behind her. Grabbing Jess' gun, she spun around and found herself looking at Dwayne Hester's grinning face.

"Well, well. Miss Arabella Brock," he sneered, "Fancy meeting you way out here. You're a long way from home, missy."

He cocked his gun, still grinning. But it was his last smile. Bella pulled the trigger of Jess' gun and shot him through the heart. She held the pistol aimed at his fallen body until she was sure he was dead. Then she started crying, ragged sobs ripping through her body as she turned back to Jess. She stripped his bandanna from his neck and tied it tightly around his leg. She was still crying when Slim and Francis found her. They'd left Marvin Hester face down and also dead a little ways behind them.

Slim quickly knelt by Jess as Francis lifted Bella away from him.

"I'm all right," she said, forcibly holding her breath to stop her sobs. "I'm all right. Just take care of him…."

The ranch was only a few miles away, much closer than town. Slim and Francis got Jess on Alamo and Slim held onto him as they rode for home. Arabella followed them, trailing the extra horses behind her. Francis, his grey cavalry hat pulled low, headed at gallop for Laramie to tell the sheriff what had happened and to fetch the doctor.

INVALID

Saturday Night

Miss Daisy was helping Ben with the evening chores when she saw riders coming down the hill toward the house. Instinct and good eyesight told her something was wrong.

"Ben!" she called. "Ben! Hurry! Jess is hurt! Oh, hurry, Ben!"

Slim and Ben gently carried a still unconscious Jess to his bed. Mike was dispatched to boil water and gather bandages while Daisy put personal feelings aside and assessed Jess' condition.

"Thank God the artery wasn't cut," she said. "There was so much blood loss because the bullet went straight through. We must keep him warm and still until the doctor comes."

Daisy, Slim and Mike were experienced veterans of emergency wound management, especially where Jess was concerned. The bandanna was replaced with clean bandages and quilts warrmed on the kitchen stove were piled on top of him.

Arabella helped when she could but mostly she tried to stay out of the way. She could see Jess was in loving hands that knew how to take care of him. It was Daisy who noticed the girl's eyes never left Jess' face as long as she was allowed to stay in the room.

Francis and the doctor rode in just as Ben and Mike finished the evening chores. As usual, Doc McGhee praised Daisy's medical skills even as he completed what she had begun. The wound was re-cleaned and doused with alcohol.

"Moonshine," Doc said. "My brother in Kentucky makes it and sends it out to me. It's better than carbolic because it doesn't irritate the skin as much." He stitched the puncture holes closed, front and back, and wrapped the leg with clean bandages.

Jess floated in and out of consciousness despite the laudanum he was given. He bore it all in stoic silence but his clenched mouth and squeezed-tight eyes evidenced the pain he was in.

At last, it was done. Slim gently settled Jess' head on the pillow and tucked the quilts securely around his shoulders. Now that the cutting and cleaning and stitching were over, the laudanum took effect and Jess sank into an exhausted sleep, his cheeks shadowed by his dark lashes, his brows angled in a trace of a frown.

The bedroom door was left opened as everyone gathered in the main room and took breaths of relief. If all went well, Jess would be all right. For a moment, Slim held his hands out toward the heat of the fire Mike had started, then turned to Francis.

"You and Doc are welcomed to stay here tonight. We have plenty of beds in the bunkhouse and Bella can have Mike's room."

"But who will stay with Jess?" Arabella asked, anxiety plain in her face.

"Why, Slim will," Daisy spoke up, realizing the girl was dead on her feet and still traumatized by the terror she'd been through. "Now, come along Bella. I'll help you settle down for the night. I changed Mike's bed just this morning. You'll sleep just fine there and we'll take good care of Jess."

Sunday

Arabella woke the next morning to the smell of coffee and frying bacon. Daisy was right. Despite the horrors of yesterday she had slept well, but then the young do, and Bella was not yet twenty. She stripped off the nightdress Daisy lent her, bathed her face, coiffed her hair as well as she could under the circumstances and presented herself at the breakfast table.

"Good morning!" Daisy said brightly. "I hope you slept well."

Bella ignored her manners and asked anxiously, "How is Jess?"

"He's doing as well as can be expected," Daisy said. "Slim is with him now and Francis is at the barn tending to the stock. Would you like some coffee?" she asked, trying to divert the girl.

Bella eyes cut to the closed bedroom door. "Is he going to be all right?"

"I think so. He has a little fever but fevers are the way the body tries to heal itself. Doctor McGhee inspected the wound before he left this morning. He said it's clean and he expects it to stay that way. Jess will heal up quickly. Now sit down, Bella. Breakfast is ready."

Slim and Francis came into the room at the same time, Slim from the bedroom and Francis from the barn. Taking their seats, they dug into Daisy's bacon and eggs and drank her coffee as they talked about the plans for the day.

"Arabella and I will be going along home," Francis said. "We can't tell you how much we appreciate your help in getting Darcy back. I'm only sorry Jess was hurt."

"He'll be all right," Slim said. "He's as tough as Bella's Spanish pony. The real problem with him is keeping him in bed long enough for that leg to heal."

"Oh, I could help with that!" Bella spoke up, in her eagerness missing the startled looks everyone at the table but Mike gave her. "Why I know lots of stories he would like. And I could tell him about Darcy and our plans to breed her to Uncle Will's stock in Texas. He has a herd of Spanish ponies descended from Cortez himself, or so he says."

Francis mouth set in a firm line. "You'll be going home, Bella," he said.

Bella's head jerked up, her fine boned chin pointing toward her brother like an Indian arrow. "No, Francis. I won't be going home. Miss Daisy needs help and I intend to stay and help her."

Francis was a Southern gentleman. Arguing with a woman in front of others just wasn't done. Face set, he rose from his seat and bowed toward Miss Daisy.

"Thank you, Mrs. Cooper, for the meal. I very much enjoyed it." He looked at his sister. "Arabella, could I speak with you outside if you please?"

Arabella pushed her chair back and rose to her full height, as erect as her mother had been at the picnic and as tall. She excused herself and followed her brother outside.

With looks of silent agreement, Slim and Daisy got up from the table and went into the kitchen window where they both discretely craned their necks to watch what was happening in the yard. Francis and Arabella were leaning toward each other in furious conversation. Bella's hair seemed to have sprung out from her head. It was shining like a halo in the morning sun and her finger was pointed at Francis to emphasize her adamant refusal to leave.

Slim was at a loss as to how to handle the situation but Daisy knew. She picked up a flat bottomed pan and wandered outside as if she was about to feed the chickens. Brother and sister both reassumed their composure when they saw her coming toward them.

"Oh, I'm so glad you're not ready to leave yet," Daisy said with feigned innocence. "I have a tremendous favor to ask of you, of your whole family, really."

Francis and Arabella were instantly solicitous.

"Anything, Mrs. Cooper," Francis said. "We are greatly in your debt."

"Well," Daisy said, "with Jess being hurt and with spring chores piling up, I'm afraid I have more to do than I can possibly manage by myself. Is there any way Arabella could stay on for a day or two to help me? I know it's an imposition but…"

"Oh, I would be glad to, Miss Daisy!" Arabella exclaimed. "Very glad. I was just telling Francis that we must do something to make up for the trouble we've caused you and your family."

"Why, that's wonderful! Now I know you need your things and," Daisy assumed her most prim demeanor, "I know your mother may think it's improper for you to stay with people you scarcely know. So," she paused and with great sweetness said to Francis, "I wonder if you would bring your mother to us when you come back with Arabella's things? I would love to get to know her better. Her company would lighten all our spirits."

Francis looked at Daisy, a smile of admiration glinting in his eyes. He knew when he'd been out maneuvered. With a small sigh and a bow, he said, "Of course, ma'am. It would be my pleasure. I will bring our mother to you this afternoon.

Arabella seemed to quiver a little as relief flowed through her. Even her hair settled down. "Men can be such a bother," she thought to herself happily as she allowed Daisy to take her arm and guide her toward the house.

"Now, dear," Daisy said, as they entered the kitchen, "let me tell you what needs to be done today."

Sunday Afternoon

Mrs. Brock arrived at the ranch a little while after the noon meal, accompanied by her son Wade. She greeted Daisy with a handshake and an open smile that resembled her daughter's.

"Francis has a way with foaling mares and Darcy's sister is in labor," she told Daisy by way of explanation for her older son's presence. "And he's told Wade such wonderful things about all of you that he wanted to come for a visit himself."

"Well!" Daisy said with satisfaction. "We are so pleased you can lend Arabella to us for a while and that you can stay with her. Now come along. I know you must be tired after that ride. Bella and I have made some fresh coffee."

At Francis' suggestion, Wade, with Marcy's help, had collected yesterday's forgotten supplies. He carried them in, then everyone settled down in chairs gathered around a low burning fire. After some initial chitchat and sips of the promised coffee, Wade asked, "How is Jess getting along? We were very sorry he was injured while coming to our aid with Darcy."

"Jess has been sleeping most of the day, which is exactly what he needs to do," Daisy replied. "I think he will be fine when the laudanum wears off. My goodness!" She took a closer look at Wade. "You could be your brother's twin!"

"They almost were," Mrs. Brock said. "They're only nineteen months apart. My husband used to call them our 'suicide twins'. As soon as Wade learned to talk, Francis learned to walk. They were both babies but never seemed to be in the same place at the same time. We were kept very busy tending to them."

"Your boys are about the same age as Slim and Jess. I'm sure they were a handful."

"They were. Especially since their older brother was also under six years of age." There was a pause. "Thomas. He was killed at Gettysburg."

Another silence hung in the air. Even Bella stopped the rattling of the dishes she was washing in the kitchen.

"I'm so very sorry," Daisy said, her voice quiet and sad. "My son also died in the War."

The two women looked at each other, grief meeting grief. Wade was the first one to speak, his soft Southern dialect warming the void.

"Mrs. Cooper, I've enjoyed your hospitality but I must be going. Francis is good with the mares but as you know, there are always other things that must be attended to on a ranch."

"Of course there are," Daisy said. "I'm sorry Slim wasn't here with us this afternoon. He and Mike and Ben are catching up on fence repair. I believe work is permitted under certain circumstances even though it is the Sabbath. And please call me Daisy. Everyone does around here."

"Certainly, Miss Daisy," Wade said. He had a charming smile and a deep set twinkle in his eyes. "You send us word if you need any assistance at all. Francis and I are at your service."

After he'd ridden off, Daisy helped Mrs. Brock settle in Mike's room where an extra bed had been set up for her.

"You're right about no longer needing to be so formal with each other," Mrs. Brock said as she unpacked her valise. "Please call me Josie. After all, we are in the West now and we intend to adopt your freer ways. In fact, we look forward to it."

"Of course, Josie, but don't be surprised if Jess doesn't always remember that. He's a Southern boy, too, you know. Half the time I'm 'Miss Daisy" to him even though I've been here for three years now."

"I'll be glad to get to know him," Josie said. "I think Arabella is very much taken with him."

"I believe you may be right about that. And if Jess' behavior at the picnic is any indication, I think he likes her, too. However, Jess is Jess. Sometimes it's hard to know what he'll do. I just hope she doesn't get hurt by him."

"We can't help whom we love, now can we?" Josie smiled at Daisy. "Arabella is a lot like her father was, a little stubborn. More than a little, perhaps," she admitted. "And she's the youngest and is used to getting her way. It could be that Jess is in more danger than she."

She and Daisy shared a laugh - and an understanding. They'd both seen too much of death and destruction; they would do whatever they could to create a better world for the young people they loved.

The rest of the day passed with the women talking and cooking and getting acquainted. Both Daisy and Josie noticed that Bella took frequent breaks to tiptoe into Jess's room to check on him.

Slim and his helpers got home in time for the evening, and only, Sunday stage. Ben and Mike took charge of changing out the horses while Slim went in to see about Jess. The laudanum had worn off and he was in a good deal of pain. When he saw Slim he struggled to sit up.

"Get me out of this bed, Slim. I can't take it anymore. What time is it anyway?"

Slim's big rancher's hand eased him back down. "Whoa, Jess. You're not ready to get up yet. You'll pop those stitches Doc McGhee sewed into you last night."

"Aw, come on Slim," Jess complained, but now that Slim was here he felt better. "At least let me sit up some."

"All right, but you take it slow." He propped Jess up on some pillows and lit the lamps in the room to brighten it up. "Feel like eating some supper?" he asked, sitting down on the other bed.

"I guess so," Jess said. "Who all is here anyway? I keep hearing people talkin' but that laudanum makes me so mixed I can't tell who it is. Do we have company?"

Slim smiled. "Yeah. A lot of company."

"Well, who?"

"Bella." Slim's smile broadened.

"Bella?" Jess perked up. "She's here?"

"Been here since we brought you home yesterday. Been a lot of help. Her mother's here, too."

"Her mother!" Jess was caught between disbelief and horror. "Damn, Slim. What've they been doing?" He looked down at his half-dressed condition, clearly expecting the worst.

Slim laughed at him. "Nothing you wouldn't want them to do. But now that you're waking up, you might have some company. Bella's been mighty worried about you."

"'bout me?" Jess was having a hard time taking all this in. Was this good news or bad news? "I better get some clothes on," he said and tried to get up again.

Slim jumped up and once more gently pushed him back on the pillows, this time letting his hand rest on Jess' chest for a minute.

"Take it easy, boy. You still got a fever and you're a long way from well."

Jess reluctantly subsided beneath Slim's hand. "Well, if there's any doctorin' to be done I want you to do it," he said, pouting.

"Don't worry about that, Partner. I'll guard your skinny hide like a grizzly bear with a cub. Now let's see how that leg's doing."

True to his word, Slim was the one to change Jess' bandage and sponge the fever sweat off of him, but it was Daisy who came in with a bowl of chicken and dumplings and made sure he drank all the broth.

"Now, Jess," she admonished as he handed the bowl back to her, "Slim says the wound is healing just fine but I can tell you're uncomfortable. I want you to take one more dose of the laudanum Doctor McGhee left so you can sleep tonight. By tomorrow I think you'll feel much better."

Jess had to admit his leg was hurting a lot and he took the medicine without complaint.

"I hope Daisy's right about feeling better tomorrow," he thought as he drifted off. "I'd like to talk some more to Bella about that Spanish pony of hers. Maybe even take it for a ride…."

Monday

He did feel better the next day but was restless as the laudanum wore off. When Slim came home for the noon meal, he helped Jess get dressed and established in as much comfort as possible on the reclining couch in the living room. After lighting a fire to knock off the chill of the cool spring day, Slim headed back to work. Daisy and Josie donned jackets and scarves and went outside to finish up the last of the Monday wash. Mike was at school. It was up to Bella to keep Jess company.

She drew the rocking chair close to his side. In her hands she held a bit of mending but her eyes were fastened on Jess. "I'm so glad you're feeling better," she said. "Does your leg hurt much?"

"Some," he said. He was still a little groggy from the pain killing medication, his blue eyes bright with remnants of fever, but he studied Bella with interest. "How's your horse?" he asked.

"Oh, Darcy is just fine! She's out in the corral. I swear she wants to be a work horse. Every time Slim changes out the teams, she stands at the fence mooning after the stage when it leaves."

"She's a mite small," Jess said with a trace of a smile.

"Oh, I know that but she doesn't. Do you know her sire was a champion at the Camden races….?"

And so the conversation went: Spanish horses and prize horses and loco horses, horses that bit and horses like Traveler who acted more like a favorite pet dog than a horse. They laughed over a story Bella told about a horse her father once owned, a horse from Tennessee, who went lame every time he was saddled up.

"I know he did it just to get out of being ridden," Bella declared. "He ran like the wind when he was turned out. Why, one moonlit night I heard him galloping back and forth in the pasture for half an hour just for the fun of it."

After a while, Bella noticed that Jess was looking a little peaked. She brought him some custard she'd made herself that morning.

"It's got sugar and milk and eggs and a little vanilla bean Mamma brought with her," she said. "It's good for building up your strength."

Time passed quickly for both of them but when Daisy and Josie came in from the yard toward mid-afternoon it was clear Jess was flagging.

"Come along now, Arabella," Josie said. "I need your help sorting through some mending Daisy needs done." She noticed with amusement that the piece of sewing her daughter was supposed to be working on lay unfinished on the floor near the rocking chair.

Jess was feeling tired but strangely contented. Maybe being an invalid wasn't so bad after all. The house was quiet, only the fire crackling as a log settled now and then. He fell asleep dreaming of a little Spanish pony running free on the plains, her head up, her black mane flowing.

He was still asleep when Bella crept back into the room. Her breath and her heart caught as she looked at his sleeping face. He hadn't shaved in two days and a dark, furry beard framed his face, outlined his mouth. "His sweet mouth," Bella thought. It reminded her an English crossbow, the corners quirked up at the ends like he was always on the verge of a smile. She felt a little dizzy, a little weak in the knees. She sat down in the rocker beside him, watching him sleep.

When Daisy and Josie came out of Daisy's room, they paused for a moment to look at them. What a picture they made, the tawny haired girl and the dark haired cowboy. With a regretful sigh, Daisy broke the silence.

"Why look at the time!" she said, not too loudly. "Slim and Mike will be home soon and supper's not even started!" She walked toward the kitchen followed by Josie. "Now what should we have? Something Jess would like."

Jess slept on despite the clatter of pots and pans and the rattle of the wood stove being fired up. Slim, Ben and Mike came home, the stage was changed out, the evening meal prepared and the table set before he finally woke up. He opened his eyes to see Slim instead of Bella sitting in the rocking chair.

"Welcome back, Sleeping Beauty," Slim teased. "Had a good nap?"

"The best," Jess said. His fever had broken and the pain in his leg was manageable. He ran a hand through his hair, leaving it more tousled than ever. "Where's Bella?" he asked trying to peer around Slim.

"Oh, she's out in the kitchen with her mother and Daisy. They're cooking up something good for supper. You hungry?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I am," Jess said to his own surprise.

"Come on then." Slim stood up and helped Jess get to his feet. "If you're going to impress the ladies you better wash up some."

The ladies, especially Arabella, were impressed when Jess, with Slim's help, emerged from the bedroom. He was shaved, his hair was combed and the bandage had been changed. He kept his eyes lowered as Slim maneuvered him to the couch and used some pillows to prop him up into a sitting position.

"You keep that leg still," Slim ordered. "You're healing up real good and we want to keep it that way."

"Sure thing, boss," Jess quipped and stole a look at Bella who was looking back at him.

The meal took on a celebratory air. Jess was better. To keep him company, the space in front of the fireplace was cleared and the table and chairs moved close to him. He was handed a plate full of roasted chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy, green peas cooked with onions. There were biscuits and fresh churned butter and jam made from last summer's blueberries. Desert was baked apples topped off with Bella's egg custard. Jess ate it all.

There was no lack of conversation. Mike kept everyone laughing with his report of the antics he'd been up to at school that day. As for Josie and Bella, they came from a place where conversing was an art form; Southern ladies were trained to write notes about what might be interesting to their guests on the back of their fans. But there was no need for written prompts at the table that night. Even after the meal was over and dishes cleared, the group sat around the fire and talked.

Josie told a tale of a hound dog named Blue who was terrified of the long, sharp teeth and glittering eye of a possum playing possum. He was worthless as a hunting dog and ran away when he spotted a stranger but he had a privileged spot in the heart of the Brock family.

Bella, in an awed voice, shared an experience she had as a child. She'd seen her grandfather standing on the hall stairs. "He spoke to me!" she declared. "He said, 'Don't worry. Everything will be all right'. I swear it's true. The strange thing about it was my grandfather was a hundred miles away in Charleston. He had died that very night!"

Josie nodded. "I believe her,' she said. "She's always been fey, like my own mother."

As the evening wore on, the talk became more personal. Jess was beginning to nod off when Josie told a story about a peculiar aunt of hers who as a young woman started counting the number of times she walked across Gervais Street in Columbia. Before she died at eighty-four, her count numbered close to million, or so she said.

"Of course, that was before Columbia burned," Josie said with unintentional sadness. "It's all changed now."

"It must have been terrible for you," Daisy said. "Do tell us more about yourself. Did you lose your home in the fire?"

"More than that," Josie answered. "Tom, my husband, died that day. He was a doctor, you know. He was a graduate of the Charleston Medical College, the first medical school in the State - in the South for that matter," she added with a rueful smile. "He was trying to help a man who had been burned and he was caught by a falling beam himself. Bella and I had to go to Lexington County to stay with my sister and her family. That summer, Francis and Wade finally got home from Virginia. But the boys wanted to come West. They eventually worked it out - and here we are." This time the smile was genuine. "This has been a lovely evening," she said, rising. "Thank you for your good company. Come along, Arabella. It's time for us to retire."

She and Arabella said their good nights, as did everyone else. It was late and tomorrow was another day.

Tuesday Morning

As everyone knows, the third day of any kind of recovery is usually the hardest. There was no exception to this rule in Jess' case. His leg was hurting when he woke up and he couldn't stand on his feet without Slim's help.

Slim had been through many recoveries with Jess. He put up with his whining and complaining and snapping at him for nothing and finally got him dressed and into the main room.

"You're going to be on this couch for another day!" Slim ordered. "No arguments!"

This only made Jess madder. His brows angled in a sulky frown, but then Bella came into the room. His frown disappeared. He smiled at her, his interest in life shining like sunlight in his blue eyes. "Good morning," he said and meant it.

Bella walked over to him, her own smile as bright as his. "I'm getting ready to fix you some breakfast. How do you liked your eggs cooked?" She waited for his answer as if she was about to hear the most wonderful secret in the universe.

"Easy over if I can get 'em that way," Jess said.

"Coming up!" Bella said happily and disappeared into the kitchen.

Jess was aglow.

Slim laughed at him. "Now I know how to get you out of a bad mood," he said. "Just enjoy the special treatment, Pard. It won't last forever. There's plenty of work waiting for you when that leg heals up." He grabbed his hat and headed out the door. "Good thing Daisy fed me when I got up to do the chores," he thought. "I'd starve to death if it was left up to those two."

As for Jess, he feasted on eggs and toast and grits loaded with butter and just the right amount of salt. "You know, these taste just like the grits my Ma used to cook," he said between bites. "Real smooth."

"That's because I used milk for the liquid and I've let them cook since I got up this morning. To be good, you have to cook grits for a long time."

While Jess ate and Bella waited on him, Daisy and Josie were doing the folding and ironing of the clothes washed yesterday. The talk flowed back and forth from the kitchen to the main room, from Jess and Bella to Josie, from Josie to Daisy. Laughter did, too. There seemed to be no end to the true tales and tall tales that could be told.

Daisy shared funny stories of her first few weeks at the ranch, when she was learning what a prankster Jess could be.

Jess made them laugh with stories about Jonesy and Andy and the trouble they were getting into in St. Louis. "They'll be coming home for the summer," he said, clearly excited. "Now that the railroad is coming to Laramie it'll be a lot easier for them to get here."

Josie and Arabella talked about their life in South Carolina. "We didn't own slaves," Josie said. "Neither my husband nor myself thought it was the right thing to do."

"How did you get along then?" Daisy asked. "You said you had a farm and a house in town. You must have needed help."

"Oh, we had help. We paid for it."

Neither Jess nor Daisy thought it polite to ask where the money came from to hire so many people but Josie volunteered the information.

"Tom and I inherited a great deal from both our parents. We grew up in Charleston. Both our families owned rice and indigo plantations in the area, and the profits were well invested abroad. Before South Carolina, our families had sugarcane plantations on the island of Barbados in the Caribbean Sea."

The room was quiet. This sounded like the most interesting story of all. Even Bella, who had heard it many times before stopped folding the sheets to listen to her mother's telling of it.

"A great grandfather of mine, Alan Johnston, came to the island in 1640. He was a younger son of a Lowland Scottish family full of younger sons. Tom's Brock ancestor did the same thing. They were financed by Scottish investors and they brought sugarcane to Barbados, and shiploads of slaves. But the soil failed. King Charles was giving away land grants in Carolina and the Johnstons and the Brocks took full advantage of his generosity. They came to Charleston area in the 1680's to start new plantations and they - and all the other settlers from Barbados - brought slavery with them."

"How come you know about all this?" Jess asked, greatly entertained by this history lesson. "That was a dadgum long time ago."

"They wrote it down." Josie's grey eyes looked up from her ironing to smile at him. "South Carolina planters are proud of their ancestors even if they were a lazy bunch who used other people to do their work for them. But then, anyone with wealth in the South usually got it from the labor of the slaves. We were all guilty."

"You could 'a left," Jess said.

"I wanted, too. I had cousins, second cousins, who did. The Grimke' sisters. You may have heard of them."

"Of course!" Daisy exclaimed. "They were strong abolitionists. I read their pamphlets before the War. But I thought they were from Philadelphia."

"They were originally from Charleston. A very prominent family. Their father was a judge."

With a sideways glance at Jess, Bella added, "They also said women should have the same rights as men."

"Yes, they did." Josie agreed. "But in South Carolina women didn't have those rights. My husband was a good man, but he was proud of his family's history. He always claimed that the Revolutionary War would have been lost if it weren't for Carolina fighters. When it came down to it, he felt more loyalty to the State than he did to the Federal Union. So we stayed. And our sons fought for the Confederacy. And one of them died for it."

There was a long silence. Then Jess, wanting to lighten things up said, "Well, I know for a fact women have rights in Wyoming. One time me and Slim were at a trial where the whole jury was packed with women." He shot a quick, teasing look Bella's way. "Women can vote here, too."

Josie couldn't help but smile at the irrepressible young cowboy. "That's what I like about the West, Jess. There's a lot of freedom out here."

Tuesday Afternoon

Before Jess knew it, it was dinner time. Slim came in to eat after the stage had been attended to. As he ate, he watched Jess flirt with Bella and watched Bella flirt right back. When Slim took his empty plate to the kitchen, he caught up with Daisy for a private chat.

"How do you think our boy is getting along?" he asked.

Daisy laughed. She understood what he was really asking. "He's doing just fine. I've never seen him better behaved."

Slim ran a hand over his mouth, a clear signal he was worried. "All right. But keep an eye on him. And on Bella."

Daisy laughed again. "Oh, don't worry for a minute about that. Josie and I both have excellent eyesight. But I do hope you can get Jess to lie down for a while. You know how he is. I can tell his leg is hurting him but he won't admit it."

Slim was relieved. Daisy seemed to know how to handle things. He leaned over and gave her a quick kiss. "Thanks, Daisy," he said, then he went back to the living room where he bossed and cajoled Jess until he eventually got him to stretch out on his bed to rest.

"Ben and I are going to be working on the barn roof this afternoon," Slim said. "I'll come back in an hour or two and help you get up again. In the meantime, I don't want you to move."

The nap did Jess good but when he woke up he was more restless than ever. True, as always, to his word, Slim came, helped him back to the couch, and left him in Bella's care.

She brought out a deck of cards. "I'll teach you to play Biz Whiz," she said.

"Biz what?" Jess was puzzled but willing to be entertained by her.

Bella, with Daisy's help, had retrieved a small table from the attic. She angled it to be within Jess' reach.

"Biz Whiz," she repeated. "Its official name is Bid Whist, but we always called it Biz Whiz."

"We who?" Jess asked. He was watching her shuffle the cards. "She's pretty good at it," he thought.

"Oh, let's see. Susan and James and Sam and me. And any other children that came around. Wade and Francis, when they were home. But they were so much older than I was. They had other things to do. During the War they weren't there at all."

"Well, I know Wade and I know Francis," he said, admiring how quickly she dealt out the cards. "But I ain't heard you say nothing about those other folks."

"Susan, James and Sam were our Negro cook's children. I grew up with them."

"I thought you said you didn't own slaves."

"We paid them, Jess," she said, somewhat snappishly. "I don't know how much. Papa handled that." She sounded a little defensive now. "They had a cottage behind our house in Columbia. They came with us to Aunt Mary's. Since Papa was gone, Wade handled the inheritance money when he got home. He paid them. Their daddy was our yard man. He took care of the stable and the horses. Their mamma was our cook. Her name was Ruth. Now," she said, slapping a card down, "pay attention."

Bid Whist was a complicated game. There were, as the name implied, bids. There were trump cards and two different kinds of jokers. Bella got Daisy and Josie to sit down with them because four players was the preferred number.

"You can play with just two," Bella said, "but it's not as much fun."

Bid Whist required a sharp mind and good math skills and Jess caught on quickly. He loved card games of any sort. Besides, he liked playing with Bella. She was a good sport, even about her own mistakes and teased him about his.

Josie already knew the rules. She'd made it her business to understand the game when she saw her daughter and Ruth's children absorbed in it.

"The Negroes have played this game as long as I can remember, but I only learned it when Bella became so engrossed in it," Josie commented during one of the breaks. "It resembles the game of Bridge that my husband and I used to play at dinner parties. Only the Negroes seemed to have a much better time at it than we did. Their laughing and bragging and taunting of each other was as much a part of the game as the card play."

It was an interesting afternoon. Daisy and Josie eventually left to start preparations for supper, Mulligan stew and fresh baked bread, but Jess and Bella played a modified two person version of Biz Wiz right up to meal time.

As Bella began to put the cards away, Jess smiled at her, his blue eyes full of mischief.

"Tomorrow I'll teach you how to play poker."

Wednesday/Thursday/Friday/Saturday/Sunday/Monday

The next day Jess did teach her to play poker, several different versions of it. He was feeling much better, but the leg still had some swelling and he wasn't allowed to walk without help.

"You might just as well make up your mind to being an invalid until Doc McGhee comes back and takes out those stitches on Monday," Slim told him. "It's a good thing you have Bella around to entertain you."

Jess wasn't happy about the restriction but he wasn't too unhappy about it either. Bella was a cheerful companion. She could talk about anything, the War, horses, her favorite food, her life in Columbia. Nothing seemed to be too insignificant to be pulled out of her conversational repository and examined, dissected and laughed about.

She informed Jess that, according to Wade, her mother had named her for a woman, and not an upright women, in Fielding's Tom Jones. "And Darcy," she said, "was named for this amazing man in one of Miss Austin's books. I've read all her novels. I've even read Tom Jones. Mamma would throw a fit if she knew that. But then, why did she name me Arabella? She should have known I would be bound and determined to read any book with my name in it."

Throughout that week, Jess' and Bella's conversation wove through the playing of cards, the peeling of potatoes, the sewing of buttons on shirts, and when Bella found out that Jess was interested in baking, the making of ginger cookies and yeast bread.

Jess, to his surprise, found himself telling Bella some things about his own life. Maybe it was just the long hours of idleness or maybe it was the kindness in her eyes, but In bits and pieces he told her about being on the drift before he met Slim, even things about his gun fighting days. When she didn't seem repelled or frightened, only very interested, he told her more. By the end of the week, sitting alone with her on the porch in the twilight, he told her about his family dying in the fire. After all, her father had died in a fire, and her whole town had burned down around her. She'd shot a man to save his life. She seemed to understand how bad things could be.

Early on Saturday morning, Mort Cory rode out to take their statements about the theft of Darcy and the Hesters' personal attack. He assurred them the deaths of the brothers would be ruled as self-defense.

On Sunday afternoon, Wade and Francis came for a visit. Taking them outside for a private chat, Bella made it clear to them that she had no intention of leaving the Sherman household until Jess was walking on his own and could tend to himself.

"It's just too hard on Miss Daisy," she said righteously. "Mamma and I are a big help to her, and to Slim. Y'all can take of yourselves. Besides," she said, even more righteously, "We're in their debt for helping us get Darcy back. Jess could have been killed."

Francis thought, "What about me and Slim? And you?" but he didn't dare to say that out loud. He and Wade gave in, allowing that she was right.

Josie was pleased to stay, too, for reasons of her own. Daisy did need help but there was something more important than helping with chores going on in this little ranch house. She could see the way the wind was blowing, and she liked it. She liked Jess. In fact, the more she knew of him, the more she liked him. She understood he'd had troubles, terrible troubles, in his past. But she could also see his underlying character, his basic honesty, his loyalty, his sweetness. She could see his affection for Slim and Slim's love for him.

She knew Arabella adored him. Jess was kind to her, at times enchanted and entranced by her. But Josie could also see that Jess was wary. He'd lived a hard life before he found Slim Sherman. What did he really feel toward Arabella, this young Southern belle who had suddenly been dropped into his life? She couldn't tell. The impassive wall that protected his heart kept his deepest feelings hidden. Josie knew if she and Arabella went home now, the relationship would never have the chance to develop properly. The distances and the work of running a ranch would cause it to end too soon or worse, be rushed to some other premature conclusion. Josie was content to stay at the Sherman ranch to wait, to watch and to pray.

On Monday, Doc McGhee came as promised and took out the stitches. "It's a good thing that bullet hit the outside of the thigh," he said. "You're going to be sore for a long while but the wound is clean and you're as healthy as a horse. You'll heal up fast now. You can walk. You should walk to strengthen those muscles. But NO RIDING!" He knew Jess well enough to give this order in front of Slim. "I'll be back next week. If you take care yourself, I'll see if you can go back to your normal activities then."

THE SECOND WEEK

After Doc McGhee left, Slim went up to the attic and brought down a crutch he'd made for Jess after an earlier injury. The first place Jess wanted to go with his new mobility was out to the corral to check on Traveler. Slim and Bella went with him.

Horse and rider were delighted to see each other. With soft eyes and a softer muzzle, Traveler nudged Jess for a treat which of course he had in his pocket. Darcy joined the group at the fence, throwing her dainty head back and tossing her mane to get Bella's attention.

Tending to the horses became a regular part of the daily routine. Traveler and Darcy were never better groomed nor more indulged than they were that week. Their harnesses were mended, their saddles oiled and polished, their manes combed and trimmed, and in Darcy's case, braided.

The barn became a refuge of sorts where Jess and Bella could work side by side and talk freely to each other away from the kind but watchful eyes of Josie and Daisy. There, in the cool shadows, Jess lost some of his wariness. He watched Bella without appearing to, his eyes hooded, his face impassive. He was keenly aware of the lithe movements of her body, the strength and delicacy of her hands as she tended to Darcy. He noticed the gold of her hair matched bits of straw that tangled in it - and he saw the shining affection in her clear blue eyes as he stopped to gently untangle those bits one by one. There was something familiar about her, something about the sweetness of her smile that tantalized him, someone she reminded him of, but the connection hovered at the edges of his mind without coming into awareness. He only knew he wanted to draw her into his arms, to yield to the sensuous warmth he felt in her and take her to himself. The longing was a pain that locked his heart, tightened his chest, an ache that stayed with him even when they were apart and that intensified when they were together. And yet he held back.

And Bella waited. She knew it was not for her to close the space between them, but she was as conscious of him as he was of her, alive to his every gesture, his every expression. She was startled to realize she loved the way he smelled. It was a warm smell, both tangy and musky and full of something she had no name for. Whatever it was, every pore on her skin seemed to expand when she breathed it in. It was the strangest feeling, as if the smell was an invisible force that filled her up, causing her to float away like a hot air balloon to some far-off country, somewhere unknown. She wanted nothing more than to let that smell take her wherever it wanted her to go.

Daisy and Josie left the two young people to themselves but in the manner of women, they talked about them. Daisy shared her experience of Jess, his courage, his playfulness, his struggle to heal from the wounds of his past.

"Jess," she told Josie, "has always reminded me of a young man a friend of mine wrote me about. She described a soldier who had a difficult recovery at a hospital where she worked. 'He can be led but not driven,' she wrote. That's a perfect description of Jess."

Josie nodded her head. This was not news to her. Every woman in the South was born knowing this about the male sex. "I think Bella can be very good at that," was her only comment.

Doc McGhee came on Saturday. "Had some time today and thought I better take it while I could. Mrs. Derrick's baby is due sometime next week and I need to be there." He examined Jess' wound and pronounced him well enough to sit a horse. "And I mean sit," he said. "Not a canter, not a gallop, not a trot. A walk, that's all. In another week, if the wound keeps on healing like it is now, there won't be any danger of it reopening and you can probably do whatever you want to."

THE FIRST RIDE TOGETHER

Sunday

Sunday brought one of those fresh, clear spring days that seem radiant with the joy of returning life. The sky was blue. The air was warm. The sun was shining. Everyone was in a good mood, especially Jess. By noon he couldn't contain himself any longer.

"I'm going for a ride today," he announced, just after dinner. "Bella's gonna saddle up that little Spanish pony of hers and come, too. We thought we'd ride down to the pond."

Slim feigned hurt. "You mean I'm not invited?"

"Heck, no. You and me can go riding anytime." Jess shot a worried look at his partner. "Hey, Slim. I ain't aiming to hurt your feelings or anything. It just that Bella might have to go home today when Wade and Francis leave out of here."

Slim laughed. "My feelings are in good shape. Just don't do anything I wouldn't do." He sobered. His firm, sky blue gaze locked onto Jess. "And I mean that, Pard."

Jess flushed and ducked his face. "You ain't got nothin' to worry about. She ain't that kind of girl." "Or is she?" he wondered to himself as he headed for the barn. "I ain't never found out what that 'again' meant."

Traveler and Darcy were as eager for a ride as Jess and Bella. Bound by his iron-clad promise to Slim, Jess held Traveler to a walk. Darcy stepped delicately beside them carrying Bella with familiar ease. The horses ambled along over greening pasture and down to the pond where Slim and Jess first met.

Dismounting was a little difficult for Jess but he managed it. He and Bella tied their horses to the old "No Trespassing" sign he'd hitched Traveler to on that first day, an extra insult to an already annoyed Slim. Jess started describing their meeting to Bella, adding some embellishments of his own. He soon had her laughing so hard she started to hiccup. That made her laugh even more. Holding her tummy, she collapsed to the ground, trying to catch her breath.

Jess watched her, tickled at her loss of control, but then another feeling intensified in his gaze. He knelt beside her. Gasping with hiccups and laughter, she looked up and met his blue eyes, eyes filled with vibrant intention. With slow deliberation, he drew her to himself and kissed her, kissed her long and deep, his supressed need for her surging up with a strength that surprised even him. After a moment, she pulled back, looking at him with a kind of fear - but fear of what? In a heartbeat, the fear was gone, and she kissed him with an intensity that matched his own. She was hungry for him, hungrier than she'd ever been for anything in her life.

This time it was Jess who drew back, breathing hard.

"Bella," he said, suddenly as serious as death, "this ain't right. Not for you."

She was cut to the quick. Hurt, then shame, then anger chased across her face.

"How do you know what's right for me?" she whispered and jerked away from him.

"Bella, wait….", but she had already risen and was walking away. He followed. "Look, I'm sorry. I shouldn'a done that."

She twisted around to face him, her face streaming with tears, but she was angry, too.

"I love you, Jess. You know that." Her eyes never wavered from his. "Don't you like me at all?"

"Of course, I like you." Jess was fumbling for words. He felt out of his depth here. "I like you a lot. But I ain't the right man for you. I'm just a cowpoke from the Panhandle and you're, well, …. you're a lady." His dark brows drew together as he pleaded for her understanding. "I wouldn't be no good for you. I…"

He could tell he wasn't saying the right kind of things to her. She was furious, her tawny hair bristling out like a really pissed off cat.

"You're a fool, Jess Harper," she said with contempt, her words as hard as bullets. She turned and walked away from him, mounted Darcy and rode back toward the ranch.

He watched her ride off, his eyes shadowed with sadness and a deep felt resignation. What else could he have done?

ABSENCE

Sunday Afternoon

Arabella was gone by the time Jess got home an hour or so later. The house felt empty to him even with Daisy fussing over him and trying to tell him about the Brocks abrupt departure.

"Bella said she wasn't feeling well. And I don't think she was. She looked awfully upset."

Jess ducked his head to avoid her sharp eyes.

"Did anything happen on your ride, Jess?" Daisy asked.

"No!" Jess snapped. "I guess she just got tired of being here."

He stalked into his bedroom and slammed the door shut. All of a sudden he felt tired, really tired. He flopped down on his bed and flung his arm over his eyes.

"Oh, hell," he thought. "0h, damn it all to hell.""

...

Slim wasn't around when the Brocks went home. He'd ridden out to the north pasture to check on a fence that he thought was damaged. By the time he got back, the Sunday stage was there. He helped Ben change out the horses before going inside. As soon as he walked through the door Daisy filled him in on Jess and Bella and her suspicions about why Bella and her family had left in such a hurry.

She nodded toward the bedroom. "He's been in there for an hour," she said. "There hasn't been a peep out of him."

Slim eased into the room and saw Jess stretched out on the bed, his arm still hiding his eyes. He sat down on the edge of the bunk across from him. Hands clasped, he propped his elbows on his knees, leaned toward Jess and asked, "What's the matter? I thought you were feeling better."

"Never felt better in my life," Jess muttered, his arm still over his eyes.

"All right, Jess," Slim's tone brooked no nonsense, "what happened? Daisy said the Brocks pulled out of here in an almighty hurry. What did you do?"

"What did I do?" Jess shot up on his elbow, his blue eyes blazing. "I didn't do nothin', " he said and fell back on his pillow.

"Nothing, huh? You sure about that?"

Jess sat all the way up and hunched over the edge of the bunk, head in hands. "I ain't sure about nothin' right now."

"Well, something upset her. The Brocks have proved to be good friends to us. I'd hate to think they left out of here with bad feelings about what happened between you and Bella."

"I told you I didn't do nothin'!" Jess looked up with such misery on his face that Slim felt a stab of anxiety for him. "Nothin' wrong, anyway! It... it... just wasn't what she wanted."

"Well, what did she want?" Slim asked, exasperated.

Jess' head went down in his hands again. This time his restless fingers scrubbied up and down on his crinkled forehead. "I'll be damned if I know," he mummbled.

Slim stared hard at Jess' bent head, then, in the silence, his frown of puzzlement transformed slowly into an expression of surprise and affectionate enlightment. Now he understood. "You sure about that, Jess?" he asked gently. And he waited.

Jess' dark head went down some more. He couldn't look at Slim. "She... she... oh, hell, Slim! I think she wants me to marry her."

"Oh..." Slim nodded, compassion mingling with the smile playing on his face. "So that's what she wants." Then he got serious, his voice edged with firmness. "What do you want?"

Jess shot a glance at him, meeting his partner's eyes for only a moment but Slim saw the stark vulnerability there. Jess stood up abruptly and started pacing the room. "I ain't the right man for her, Slim." He ran his hand through his hair. "She's …. well, she's a decent woman. Hell, she's a lady! I ain't good enough for her."

Slim got up and came to stand behind him. "You know better than that," he said.

"No! I don't know it!" Jess' hands clenched and jerked open again, then his voice lowered in a kind of despair. "She'd get tired of me. I ain't got the right education. I couldn't give her what she deserves. It wouldn't work."

Slim gripped Jess' shoulder, tugging him close, holding on to him. "I've known you for five years, Jess," he said slowly, "and I'm not tired of you yet. That's just not going to happen." Jess kept his head ducked but Slim forged ahead,. "Why don't you let Bella decide for herself what she wants? All you need to decide is what you want." He stood there for a moment, then squeezed Jess' sholulder hard and left the room, leaving the door open.

JESS GOES AFTER HER

Monday

The sun was high in the sky the next morning when Jess, dressed in his best blue shirt, walked out to the corral to saddle Traveler. Slim and Daisy watched him ride out.

"There goes our boy," Slim said with a little sadness in his voice. "She better say yes or she'll have me to answer to."

Daisy patted him on the arm. "I don't think you have to worry about that," she said with a happy smile. "It's just a matter of when."

...

One of Josie's relatives, Uncle Will, migrated to Tennessee in his youth and then followed Sam Houston's lead to Texas, fighting with him for Texas independence. Later, the youngest of Will's sons, Davy, left home and wandered north into the land that would one day be the Wyoming Territory. It was his letters to distant cousins in South Carolina that enticed the Brock brothers to settle in the Laramie Basin.

Their ranch lay about six miles northeast of Laramie, a long ride for a man with a sore leg, a man who'd given his word to hold his horse to a walk. It gave Jess a lot of time to think. For the entire trip, he wrestled with the part of himself that wanted to turn Traveler around and gallop as fast as he could back into the Big Open. The other part of Jess, the part that had learned, with Slim's help, that he could have a home, that he could love without hurt, held him on course toward the Brock ranch and toward Arabella.

Francis and Wade were riding out to check on some fences in the south pasture when they saw Jess coming down the road.

"Hey, Jess!" Francis called and cantered up to him. "You must be feeling a lot better. What are you doing out this way?"

Jess reigned Traveler to a stop. "Didn't Bella tell you?" His face was on the glum side of impassive.

"No, sir," Francis vowed. "Not a word. She's mad though. Real mad. I'd be careful if I was you. What did you do wrong anyway?"

"I ain't done nothing wrong," Jess snapped. Francis had just hit his last nerve.

"And you better not," Wade said with a steely glint in his eye. "She's our sister and we think highly of her."

"Oh, come on, Wade," Francis said. "You know Jess will do right by Bella. They just have some fences to mend – like we do. Let's go. See you later, Jess!" and he and Wade rode on. Francis was laughing. Wade had his mouth set in a grim line.

Monday Afternoon

Francis and Wade came west the summer before their mother and sister joined them. To prepare a place for them, the brothers built a generously sized cottage on the south edge of their property, making sure it was a home their mother would feel comfortable in. The house was bordered with trees and had tall windows and a front and back porch connected by a wide hallway.

Arabella was at the railing on the front porch when she saw him. He was still a good way off, riding down the dirt road that led to her house.

"Mamma!" Bella yelled as she ran for the front door. "Come here quick!" She almost bumped into her mother who had hurried to see what was wrong. "Jess Harper is coming this way!" She pushed past Josie and ran down the hall to the back door. "I don't want to see him!" She yanked the back door open. "Tell him I've gone riding!"

She raced to the barn where Darcy was stabled and with long-practiced ease saddled the little horse and galloped away from the homestead.

"I'm not lying," she thought to herself to ease her conscience. "I am going riding."

...

Josie was well aware of the trouble between Bella and Jess. When Jess tramped up the front porch steps she was there to meet him.

"Jess! It's so good to see you! Come on in and sit down. You must be tired out after that long ride. Let me bring you something to drink." She disappeared into the kitchen and came back with a glass of iced tea. "The boys built an ice house," she said in explanation. "I believe they did it so they could have cold tea in the summer. It's sweet, now," she warned him. "I hope you like it."

"Thank you, ma'am." Jess drained the glass in a couple of swallows. He set it down and looked straight at her. "I'm here to see Bella."

Josie's breath caught at what she saw in those serious blue eyes. Here was a man, intent on his purpose, sure of his strength. He frightened her a little.

"She's gone riding," she said slowly, feeling her way forward. She'd not seen this aspect of Jess's character. Then she saw the tiniest flicker in his gaze and she knew; underneath his boldness was a young man facing a problem he wasn't sure how to solve. Her face softened. "I think she may have gone down to the river. It's her favorite place. It's not far from here."

Jess stood up looking toward the door but he hesitated, frowning.

Josie's heart opened to him. She touched his arm. "Go on, Jess. Go after her. I think she wants to see you."

...

He found her hunkered down, arms around her knees, sitting atop a small boulder beside the Laramie River. She didn't move when she heard him coming.

He eased up beside her and went down on one knee. "OK if I sit here?"

She cut a look at him but didn't answer. He took that for a yes and sat down, gingerly stretching his sore leg out in front of him.

She couldn't help it. She had to ask. "You all right?" It was said without much sympathy.

"Sure am. How 'bout you?"

She turned her head away, not deigning to answer such a stupid question.

"Look, Bella," Jess said. "I wanted to talk to you about what happened."

"Talk away," she snipped.

Jess scrubbed his face. This wasn't going to be easy.

"I do like you, Bella," he finally said. "But you're just a young'un…"

"My age has nothing to do with it," she snapped. "At least that's not what you said yesterday."

Jess pushed his hat back on his head, releasing a tangle of black hair. He leaned closer to her.

"I like you. I like you a lot. Oh, what the hell, I ain't sure I know much about love, but I might even love you…."

She shot him a furious look.

"Now wait!" he pleaded, more frustrated than ever. "It's just that I'm not like you. Heck, I couldn't half read or write 'til Miss Daisy taught me some…."

"Do you think I care about that?" She was as mad as a wet hen. "What kind of person do you think I am?"

Jess looked like a bewildered twelve-year old trying hard to explain something he was completely confused about. "Yeah, you might not care now, but some other day you just might. We only met a couple of weeks ago. We don't really know each other …."

"I know myself! That all I need to know. What I like and what I don't like. Who I like and who I don't like."

She stood up, shook out her riding dress, and squared her shoulders. She looked down on Jess who was struggling to rise, his hurt leg slowing him down.

Bella waited till he was facing her and let him have it.

"The real problem is you don't know me," she said. "How come I was able to shoot Dwayne Hester? Because I lived through the fall of Columbia - and after - that's why. And how come I don't give a hot dam about how educated you are or what kind of manners you've got? Because after the war I worked in the house like a scully maid and I worked in the fields like a man. That's why. We were hungry! Sherman had burned everything within sixty miles of us. The railroads were cut. Our own men were dead or in Lee's army. We lived because some kind Negroes helped us - and because we fought like hell to live. "

She had his full attention.

"How well you read and write doesn't matter a fig to me. What matters is who a person is without all that. I see you Jess Harper. I see who you are. And that's good enough for me."

Her blue eyes stared right at him. Jess didn't know what to do - so he pulled her hard and fast into his arms and kissed her.

After a half-second of surprise, she - of course - threw her arms around his neck, knocked off his hat, and kissed him back.

After a while, they drew apart, breathless, starring at each other. Jess' hand touched her face. "Bella…."

Bella covered his hand with her own, and with a sweet smile reached up to give him a peck on the lips before she turned and headed toward Darcy who was grazing next to Traveler.

"I think we'd better be getting back to the house."

Jess limped as fast as he could to catch up with her. It was now or never. He had to know.

"Wait, Bella. Wait up. There's somethin' I got to ask you."

She turned smiling, her face alight.

"Ask away," she said.

"At the picnic, you know, the day we met. After the fight. Your Ma said somethin' about you kissing somebody else…."

Bella lost her smile. Her mouth tightened.

"Go ahead," she said.

"Well, Miss Josie said, 'Not again'…." Jess was fumbling badly, anxiety crinkling his face into a mask of worry. "Well, you know…. I mean, you ever felt this way before? I mean…"

Bella knew exactly what he meant. She slapped his face, hard, and jumped on Darcy in such a hurry she startled Traveler who broke his tie and took off running. Bella, Darcy and Traveler all disappeared over the horizon, racing toward home.

"Damn!" In the absence of a hat to throw to the ground, he pulled at his hair. "Damn! Left afoot. And all because of a woman!"

He limped back to the Brock place where he found Traveler and Mrs. Brock waiting for him.

"I'm sorry, Jess. She won't see you," Josie was sympathetic but also the teeniest bit amused at the woe-begone expression on his face. She shook her head and sighed. "You seem to have a talent for making her mad."

"No argument, there." He nodded to her. "Well, I guess I better be going." He reached for Traveler's saddle horn.

Josie stopped him before he mounted. "Look, Jess. I think she just needs time to calm down. You know, the June dance will be coming up in a couple of weeks. We'll be going." She smiled at him. "I believe I can guarantee that Bella will be there."

He tipped his hat to her. "Thank you, Miss Josie. I'll think on it."

HOME AGAIN

Monday night and Tuesday

Jess rode into Laramie about supper time. He decided to spend the night there in the hotel. His leg was killing him and he really needed a drink, more than a couple of them. He stabled Traveler, got something to eat, got drunk enough to go to sleep, and woke up in the morning feeling like hell.

"This Bella thing just ain't gonna work out," he told himself. "I must'a been loco." He limped over to the livery to fetch Traveler and headed toward home.

Slim was already out on the range when Jess got back to the ranch. Mike was at school so it was just Daisy who greeted him at the front door.

"Jess! You look worn out! Now you come in here and sit right down. I'm going to fix you something to eat and then I'll heat some water for a soaking bath. Why, you can hardly walk!"

Jess let her fuss over him, secretly glad for her attention. He was glum all the way down to his boots, which he painfully eased off before sinking into the hot tub Daisy had set up for him in the bedroom.

He was still neck deep in the warm water, half asleep, when Slim walked in.

Jess opened his eyes and looked up at his partner, not bothering to move. "Just let him go ahead and make fun," he thought. "It don't matter to me."

Hands on hips, Slim studied him for a moment. "You just going to drown in there?"

"Maybe," Jess said. "No reason not to."

Slim shook his head. "Oh, boy," he sighed. "You better get out of there before you turn into a prune. Daisy's got lunch ready."

Jess stood up slowly. His leg wasn't cramped up anymore but he felt like he'd been run over by a lumber wagon.

Slim went out to the living room and sat down at the table to eat while Jess got dressed. He looked to Daisy for information but she just shook her head and shrugged her shoulders. Slim looked resigned. A depressed Jess had to be dealt with before happiness could be restored to the Sherman household.

"But I can't talk to him right now," he told Daisy. "I've got to get those cows to the north pasture today. Maybe he'll feel like talking tonight."

Jess wasn't hungry. Fully dressed and left to himself, he fell onto his bed and slept most of the afternoon. He woke up achy and hungry and grouchy.

Mike was talking at full volume to Daisy in the living room. It made Jess mad to hear the racket. He stomped out of the bedroom, grabbed his hat and headed for the barn. There was nobody there. That pissed him off. He'd wanted to talk to Slim. The afternoon stage came and Jess had to change out the horses with only Moses' help. That made him mad, too. Mose was rattling on about the June dance and speculating about whether or not Miss Daisy would be his escort, and that irritated Jess beyond words. In fact every single thing that happened, the dog barking, some stupid bird singing the same song over and over again, a horse that tried to kick him, chickens that kept getting under his feet – it all made him mad, really, really mad.

Slim finally came home in time for supper but Jess didn't even look at him as they all sat around the table. Head down, he shoveled in Miss Daisy's cooking without saying a word. The rest of the family chattered amicably, communicating their real feelings with non-verbal eye contact, until Mike couldn't stand it any longer.

"What 'cha mad about, Jess. Don't Miss Bella like you?"

Jess' head jerked up and his fork slapped down. "Can't a man eat in peace around here?" he growled. He shoved his chair back, grabbed his hat and slammed out the front door. Without really thinking about what he was doing he headed for the barn and started saddling Traveler.

Slim came up behind him. "Going somewhere?"

"Maybe," Jess said.

"Anywhere I might know about – or just back to the Big Open?"

Jess' hand tightened around the saddle horn. "Maybe."

Slim walked off a way. "Well," he said, shrugging, "if that's what you want to do." He paused, then said. "Is it?"

"I don't know." Jess' head dropped. "I ain't felt this way in a long time."

Slim folded his arms. "All right, Jess. What happened?"

Jess' head dropped a little lower. "I think I made her kind'a mad."

"Again?"

Jess' bowed head shot up and he gave Slim a pleading look. "I was just trying to talk to her. And she slapped me!"

"Did you slap her back?" Slim asked sardonically.

"Hell, no, Slim. You know I wouldn't do that. Not to her, anyway." He left Traveler's side and wandered over to his partner. "But what am I supposed to do? She's a hell cat. She gets mad at the drop of a pin."

Slim gave a laugh and sat down on a bale of straw. "Women are hard to figure," he agreed. "You won't get an argument from me about that. But I've been thinking…"

Jess sat down beside him. "'Bout what?"

"About Marcy."

"Marcy?" Jess said, interested.

"Yeah. I like her. More than like her. I think…. Well, I think I might want to marry her." He waited, sure and steady on the outside but anxious underneath. A lot depended on Jess' reaction.

Jess slowly pushed back his hat and gave a whistle. "No kidding?"

Slim let out his breath, glad that Jess didn't seem all that surprised – or upset.

"Nope. No kidding," he said. "She's special, Jess." His voice took on a dreamy quality. "She smells good to me, you know? And she laughs a lot. I, well, I feel good when I'm with her, like I want to stay with her, have her close by." He shifted around a bit then leaned his arm on his leg and cocked his head, like he was figuring out how to say what he meant. "It's not like what I felt about Abby. Not like that. With Marcy I just feel happy, comfortable, like we could do important things together." He looked at Jess. "You know what I mean? Have a family, build up this ranch, 'grow with Wyoming'. I want that."

Jess was all ears. "I knew you liked her. You asked her yet?"

"Not yet. But she knows. I wanted to talk it over with you first. See how you feel about it. It would mean a lot of changes."

A stricken look crossed Jess' face and was quickly hidden. "Well, heck, Slim. Don't worry about me. Heck, I was just thinking about riding out …."

Slim's arm shot out and he grabbed Jess' shoulder with his hand. "You know better than that," he said, shaking him a little. "You can't leave anyway. You're part owner of this outfit, remember?"

"Oh, yeah," Jess said. "Well, I could move into the bunkhouse. Jonesy and Andy are coming home this summer. We can all bed down there. You and Marcy can have the room in the house…"

Slim shook Jess again, laughing. "I can do better than that," he said. "Before I marry, I'm going to build a proper house, a modern house, like the ones I see in the mail order catalogues. Got a location all picked out for it." He got up and walked to the door of the barn. "Come over here. I'll show you." When Jess came along side of him, he pointed toward the Laramie Road. "See that open place on the rise to the left? It's a good spot for a house." He cut his eyes to look at Jess. "In fact, there's plenty of room for two houses, one for me and Marcy, and one for you and Bella – or whoever," he quickly amended seeing Jess' expression. "Anyway, nobody has to go anywhere. All we need to do is 'expand the poles of tents'. It says something like that in the Bible somewhere."

Jess was quiet, looking at the site Slim had pointed out to him, pondering the implications. He'd run out of things to say.

Slim slapped him on the shoulder. "The dance is coming up a week from Saturday. Let's see what happens then."

THE DANCE

The first Saturday of June

It was the biggest dance in Laramie's short history. The railroad had finally come to town! An official ceremony and ribbon cutting had been held earlier. Toward evening, just as the sun set, the lanterns were lit, the orchestra assembled, the outdoor dance floor polished and readied. Folks streamed in from all directions, all dressed to the teeth and all full of high expectations.

Slim, Jess, Daisy and Mike had come to town early in the day to share in the festivities. Now, as the violins and guitars tuned up, Mike was running around with his friends and Miss Daisy was fending off a number of suitors, including Mose. Slim and Jess, dazzling in their black suits, white shirts and fancy vests, were casually sauntering toward the dance pavilion. Marcy was with them.

She'd been with Slim all day. She was a pretty thing, brown-haired and dark-eyed with a curvy, red mouth that always seemed to hold something of a smile. Tonight she was glowing. Slim had announced their engagement at a supper party in the cafe to shouts of joy and raised glasses of sarsaparilla, whiskey and beer. As she and Slim strolled toward the dance, she was laughing and flirting outrageously with him, stealing a kiss whenever she could. Slim couldn't stop smiling. Jess thought he looked a little daffy but he was happy for him. The wedding would take place in the fall, maybe early September before Andy and Jonesy went back to St. Louis. The contract for the new house would be signed on Monday. Once the materials arrived, assembly would take only a few weeks.

Jess was tagging along with Slim and Marcy but he wasn't really paying much attention to their excited chatter. He was scanning the crowd for Bella. Just as the first tune filled the air, he saw her.

She was standing on the other side of the dance floor with her mother and brothers – and she was looking right at him. His heart flipped over. What was he supposed to do now?

Slim nudged him on the shoulder as he pulled Marcy toward the platform for the first dance.

"Go on, Jess," he shouted above the music, "Go find a partner!"

The bump distracted Jess a little and when he caught sight of Bella again, what he saw displeased him. She was talking to a tall, good-looking galoot who was leaning over her in a courtly fashion.

Jess felt his neck get hot. He shoved through the crowd to reach her but by the time he made it to where she'd been, she wasn't there anymore. She was out on the dance floor being swung around and around in the galoot's arms.

Jess' put his head down like a charging bull and pushed his way through the dancers to intercept Bella and the tall cowboy. He tapped, more like hit, the man on the arm to cut in. The cowpoke glared at him but everybody was still on their best behavior. The disgruntled young gallant reluctantly dropped away.

Jess swung Bella into the dance but he scarcely heard the music. He stared at her, really seeing her for the first time. She was beautiful, her tawny hair swept up high on her head, gleaming and glittering red and gold in the lantern light, just the way it had been when he first saw her in church. Soft tendrils floated around her face, moving it seemed, in time with the music. Her blue eyes looked right into his. The music stopped. He just stood there, holding her, unable to let go.

She, on the other hand, could. And did. She quietly turned and walked back to where her mother stood, waiting for her. Jess followed.

Wade and Francis, elegant in grey, watched him come. Both of them had laughter in their eyes, but it was sympathetic laughter. They stepped in front of him as Bella and Josie disappeared into the crowd.

"Well, howdy, Jess," Francis said. "It's good to see you."

Jess gave him a quick glance and tried to move around him, but Wade blocked his way. One brother took one arm, the other brother took the other arm. They gently but firmly guided him toward the beverage area nearby.

"Let's have a drink," Wade said. His smile was friendly but his grip was hard as iron on Jess' arm. "You look thirsty."

"I ain't thirsty, Wade," Jess said, irritated.

"Oh, yeah, Jess!" Francis chimed in, "I think you are. You look dry as a bone."

Jess gave in, thinking that, for the moment anyway, wisdom might be the better part of valor. Besides, maybe they knew the lay of the land ahead of him. That could be helpful.

He took the shot of whiskey they handed him and downed it.

"She's been pretty upset, Jess," Francis said, shaking his head as if in regret.

Wade just looked at him hard, his blue eyes as alert and piercing as a bird of prey.

"Now listen, fellows," Jess said. "I been upset, too. I mean, she's the one that run off, not me."

"That right?" said Wade.

"Well…yeah! That's right!"

"Well, then, why don't you go make things up with her?" Francis asked.

Jess scrubbed his mid-drift where a knot of anxiety had settled. He looked at Francis. "You think I can?"

Francis laughed. "Yeah, Jess. I think you can - if you try hard enough."

Wade was still watching him, but there was a twinkle in the blue eyes now. He nodded in agreement. "I think she'd like to hear from you," he said.

...

He found her standing alone under a tree. It was quieter there, cool and dark and away from the crowd. Josie saw him coming and casually strolled back toward the dance, touching his arm as she passed.

Bella stood with her back to him, her head bowed, a slender figure. Her skirt, in the fashion of the times, was gathered back from her waist in a small puff of cloth that fell in gentle ruffles to the ground, just as her hair fell in soft ripples along her bared neck.

Jess came to stand beside her. She turned her head a little to look at him and smiled, almost sadly.

"Bella… I'm sorry," he said. "I had no right to ask you anything about the past. I got a lot of past myself." His voice was low and deep and his face was somber. "Look, I ain't never been much good at words. 'Specially the kind of words I want to say now."

He took her elbow and turned her toward him.

"I've lived a hard life, Bella. Seen and done some hard things. I never thought I deserved much of anything – never a woman like you." His eyes were as gentle as a soft spring rain and as warm as the western sun. "But things have changed."

Bella waited, her face as solemn as his.

"When I met Slim," he said slowly, "I found something I thought was lost forever … a home … a family." He searched her eyes, pain like a knife edge in his own. "And now that I've met you, I know that's what I want - with you. A home. A family."

Her eyes filled with tears.

"Bella," he asked, his strong hands gripping hers so hard it hurt, "will you marry me?"

Her tears spilled over. He let go of her hand to wipe them away.

"Well, will you?" Anxiety and urgency angled his brows.

"Oh, Jess," Bella asked in tearful exasperation, "do you love me?"

His face softened. He cupped her face with his hand, willing her to understand what he couldn't put into words.

"I do love you, Bella," he said, his voice like the rumble of far off thunder out in the Big Open. "These last couple of weeks, I felt like...well, I felt like I was missing something. Something really important. Somebody really important." He stopped, his dark brows furrowed more as he struggled toward the truth in his heart. "I missed you. I missed talking to you. I missed the way you smile at me. I missed laughing with you. I missed touching you, having you near me." His fingers caressed her tear damp cheek, slowly played over the curves of her mouth. "Nothin' felt right. Now it does. Now I feel right. I ain't never felt this way before. I want to be with you, all the time. Besides," he teased her a little, "I would'na ask you to marry me if I didn't love you."

"Oh, Jess..." Half laughing, half sobbing, Bella gave up and gave in as her heart opened wide to let Jess in, nevermore to roam. Jess was Jess. A life with him might not always be easy but it was the life she wanted. She took his face in her hands and kissed him hard. "Oh, yes, Jess Harper," she said, her tears and her smile mingling into one. " I will marry you. I want to marry you more than anything in this world."

…..

A little while later, Jess and Bella strolled arm in arm back to the dance.

"Just look at all them people," Jess said, flinging out a hand toward the crowd. His face was alight with happiness. "Now that the railroad is here, Laramie'll turn into a real boom town."

Bella just smiled up at him. She loved to hear his gravelly voice. She loved to see him happy. She loved him.

"Slim and me will be shipping beef all over the country now," he said with exuberance. "We're gonna be rich! Slim always said he wanted to grow with Wyoming and that's just what we're gonna do!" He looked at her to see if she shared the dream.

She did. "They'll all need horses," she said, her eyes shining into his. "Little horses for the women and children to ride. Just like Darcy."

"Yeah!" said Jess. "A lot of little horses! Why, we could breed the biggest herd of little horses Wyoming's ever seen."

She laughed. "And big horses, too. Big horses can do a lot of useful things."

He threw back his head with a laugh of his own, then looked down at her. That look set her tingling all the way down to her toes.

"I think I'd like to breed all kind'a horses," he said. "As many of 'em as you want." He seemed to fur up with some sort of delicious energy that made her weak in the knees. She probably needed to get used to that feeling.

They neared the dance floor as the musicians started playing a waltz.

"The Teardrop Waltz," Bella said, swaying to the music.

Jess' snugged her up under his arm and swayed with her. "You know how to waltz?"

"Why, you know - I do. Do you?"

"Sure. Learned during the war." He looked down at her, his smile mischievous and more than a little suggestive. "I love to dance."

"So do I," she whispered.

Catching her up in his arms, he swung her onto the dance floor. Graceful as windblown leaves, they twirled and dipped to the lilting tune the violins sang into the dark Wyoming night.

Slim saw them and motioned to Marcy and the other dancers to give them room. As he watched them glide across the floor, his face lit up, beaming like sunshine with his love for Jess.

"There'll be two houses to build for sure," he said to Marcy, squeezing her tight beneath his arm.

As the music slowed, the two dancers slowed, oblivious to the crowd of happy on-lookers surrounding them. Jess' dark head dropped toward Bella as she reached toward him. Her golden hair closed around him like a halo. Two young bodies wrapped each other up in arms strong and sure. Two lives flowed together as their lips met and the music played and the stars shone overhead - for as everyone knows, only some love stories begin with a kiss. But all love stories end with one.

...

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Thanks to kayakladiesspouse, author of the wonderful "Prizes", published on this site, for the name and occupation of Slim's girl and for the name of "old Jonas" at the livery.

Thanks also to for another wonderful story, "Johnny Reb" by Fortitudine, also on this site, in which she writes, "He can be led but not driven," describing Jess.

If you want to know more about how the women of the South dealt with Sherman and his troops, two books are recommended: When the World Ended, The Diary of Emma LeConte, edited by Earl Schenck Miers and When Sherman Came: Southern Women and the "Great March", by Katharine M. Jones.

If you want to know more about the Grimke' sisters (Sarah and Angelina), South Carolina Marsh Tacky Horses, Bid Whist, the South Carolina Medical College at Charleston, women's rights in Wyoming in the 1870's, or hear the "Teardrop Waltz", the information is on the internet.

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For love is a thing apart, outside of time and space.