RENEGADES

"In every conceivable manner, the family is the link to our past, the bridge to our future." Alex Haley

Gracie (aka Nonie) Sherman here with ruminations on family fragmentation. Young folks today don't study too much on what really happens to the family left behind when they grow up and move away from home. They don't have to… not in this age of instant global communication. A daughter in Seattle can text her Momma in Miami to ask—and even see—what she's fixing for dinner. A grandson in Hong Kong can email a Happy Birthday message to his Granddaddy in New Jersey. A husband in Afghanistan can Skype his wife in Montana and say hello to his children.

That's not how it was seven generations ago in America… beginning in the 1840s with the first great migrations westward. The decision to leave civilization behind and strike out for the unknown meant—among a great many other considerations—severing timely communications with those left behind. There was no coast-to-coast postal system. Letters 'home' took months to reach their destination, if at all. By the time the transcontinental telegraph was established in 1861 and—eight years later—the nation-spanning railroad was completed, connections between eastern and western factions of families had often become tenuous or non-existent. Children born and growing up out west knew only as much of their families' histories as the memories their parents had carried with them… which is why genealogy—the relentless pursuit of missing links—has been such a popular pastime in all generations.

Sometimes those missing links spontaneously resurrect themselves with surprising consequences… and that's what this story is about.

Chapter 1—PROLOGUE

Wednesday, July 1... A waning gibbous moon riding high over the eastern hills illuminated the faces of the two men winding down on the front porch of a modest ranch house in southeastern Wyoming. They conversed in low tones so as not to disturb the other residents who'd turned in early—the seventy-six-year-old housekeeper and de facto den mother, the seventeen-year-old brother home from school for the summer, and the ten-year-old foster child. Legally, Michael Williams was under Matthew 'Slim' Sherman's sole guardianship, but everyone they knew accepted that Jess Harper had equal rights... just as he was generally regarded as a full partner in the ranch although he wasn't. Not yet, anyway... and that was an issue very much on Slim's mind these days...

Three years had gone by since an exasperated rancher had confronted a belligerent trespasser on his property. On that particular morning, neither could've foreseen the relationship that would evolve from the chance encounter—Jess hadn't been looking to settle down and Slim hadn't had any intention of hiring a hand... couldn't really afford it at the time. But that's where day's end found them. And here they now were—best friends... brothers in all but blood.

Back in December Slim'd first brought up the subject of partnership with his younger brother Andy—technically half-owner of the ranch—who'd been home for the winter holiday break from his Eastern prep school. They'd gone joyriding up into the Vedauwoo Rocks with a picnic lunch lovingly prepared by 'Aunt' Daisy Cooper. Mike'd clamored to go along but Daisy'd cajoled him into staying behind, promising there'd be another time. Somehow she'd sensed, as she always did, that the brothers needed private time together—they had so little of it these days, what with Andy living almost a thousand miles away in St. Louis.

Jess'd been absent for almost two months by then—far away in Florida pursuing a lead to a possible living relative. When it appeared he might not return, Slim was devastated although he hid it well... or so he thought. Then he'd had a conversation with Daisy one night after Andy and Mike had both gone to bed...

"Stop worrying so, Slim. Surely he wouldn't abandon his vested interest here?"

"That's just it, Daisy... he doesn't really have one. He doesn't have anything to lose by moving on."

"But I thought..." Daisy was surprised. "I've always assumed... isn't he part owner?"

"No... Andy is, according to our father's will—but I control his half until he reaches his majority. If he decides he doesn't want the ranch, I'll have to either buy out his share or sell out entirely and turn over half the proceeds."

"Andy wouldn't... couldn't... do that to you... could he? He knows how much the ranch means to you!" she exclaimed in shock.

Slim shrugged. "I'd like to think not... but you never know, do you? We've never talked about it but I believe we both understand he's not cut out for cattle ranching and won't be coming back here to live permanently. I wish I could offer Jess a partnership... but it's not just up to me—even if he had the money to buy in. Andy'd have to agree."

"Have you considered discussing this with Andy... about Jess, I mean? I know I'm not as close to Andy as Jonesy is but it's perfectly obvious he cares as much for Jess as you do."

"Yes... I mean, no. He's just a kid, Daisy... too young to understand."

"Sooner than you think that 'kid' will have a legal right to make his own decision about disposition of his portion," Daisy observed sagely. "You should give him the opportunity to think about it before then. I believe in my heart he'll make the right choice for all three of you."

"You're probably right," Slim'd concurred doubtfully.

A few days later there'd been a second conversation around a tiny campfire among the hoodoos...

"So what d'you think?" the older brother queried, hopeful but trying to act casual. Funny, how he hadn't noticed until this visit how much his sibling had matured in the six months since summer break—not so much physically... he was still much shorter than Slim and always would be. And, unlike Slim, he hadn't inherited their father's imposing physique. Andy'd taken more after their mother in build and coloring. Though his demeanor was thoughtful and composed—as Mary Grace's had been—his brown eyes reflected a lively erudition. It was almost painful to accept that Andy was now almost an adult. When he spoke, his voice was deeper and steadier than Slim remembered, too.

"First of all, there's no way I'd ever let you—or make you—give up the ranch. It'll always be home to me, no matter where I end up after I finish school."

A wave of relief swept over Slim at those words.

"The whole idea of me going off to college and having a career is so I'll be able to earn enough money that I'll never need to liquidate my share... right?"

"Well... yes... it is."

"Second... if you really want my opinion..."

"Oh, I do... I do!"

"We should've made Jess partner a long time ago."

Slim noted wryly that this was the first time Andy'd ever employed the plural possessive with regard to ownership of the ranch. "It's not that simple... you can't give away property just like that."

"Shoot! I know that!" the youth continued. "What's the assessed value of our land these days?"

Slim named an amount and Andy whistled, calculating what a third amounted to. "Where would Jess get the money to buy in? He couldn't have that much saved up."

"I know he's got some money in the bank," Slim shrugged, "but—I agree—it can't be enough to cover a straight share."

"We could go corporate and offer him a smaller share as an investment," Andy mused. "That doesn't seem right, though. He's earned better than that. In three years he's put more blood and sweat into this ranch than I ever have in my whole life. If I'd been older and stronger when Pa died, I could've helped out more."

"If you had been older and stronger, I reckon that by now you surely would've..."

"Would've what? Worked as hard as you? Doubt it. There wouldn't have been any college in my future, either..."

Slim was uncomfortable with the direction this tangent had taken but Andy wasn't to be diverted.

"You know, until I went away to school I never understood why you never had time to pal around with me after Ma passed... never appreciated that you've been the one shouldering the burden of responsibility all these years... including me—the whiny kid always complaining about chores and homework."

Guilt was only one of the emotions coursing through Slim at this outpouring of frankness, as everything Andy said contained an element of truth. When Slim'd finally returned home after the war, it'd been to a widowed mother spiraling toward oblivion, a ten-year-old brother in dire need of a firm hand, and a farm in shambles. At that point any future aspirations had been lost to him—he'd had no choice but to take over. By far the most difficult of his new responsibilities had been raising Andy. But today, sitting across the campfire from his brother, any lingering bitterness and resentment was eclipsed by pride in this fine young man... and satisfaction at his own accomplishment in having shaped and guided him.

Andy was still speaking. "Even if we could just give Jess a third—I'd go along with that, no problem—the thing is, he'd see it as charity and wouldn't accept."

"You're right about that," Slim agreed, struck by his brother's insight into the complexity of Jess Harper's personality. "But it's worth a try, isn't it? I mean, the worst he could do is say 'no', right?"

"I don't see it as charity, myself. I see it as we need him to stay here. Forever. Making him partner would do that."

"There might not be a forever, Andy. If he doesn't come back, it's a moot point anyway."

The younger brother's eyes went still and sorrowful at that... just as they'd always done whenever Jess had taken off in the past.

So there's still some of that hero-worshipping little boy in there...

"Let's give it a couple of months, Andy. I'll get with Lychee and we'll figure out what we need to do." Lindsay 'Lychee' McNutt was the Shermans' half-Chinese family attorney. "But if... when... Jess gets back, let's not say anything just yet, okay? It can wait until you're home for the summer."

And Jess had come back... just in time for Christmas. The subject of partnership had been shelved and not revisited... other than in Slim's head, anyway. That was then and this was now. The two friends sat side by side, enjoying this balmy summer night and mostly talking about the upcoming Fourth of July celebration in town.

Meanwhile… in far-off deepest, darkest Pennsylvania...

Ben's Journal, Wednesday, July 1: Ma's been riding our case again about keeping up these damned journals. Not that she doesn't trust us (she says) but she's making me and Tabbie sit at the table and write while she sits at the other end and catches up on her mending. She doesn't read what we write but just wants to be sure we're doing it. She asked had we identified members of the family so our children and grandchildren and so on down the line will know who was who. When I said 'no', she said 'no time like the present' so here we are...

The matriarch of our family is Gramma Charlie Schirrman, who is 81 and not really our grandmother but our Great-Aunt Charlotte, older sister to our grandfather Matthew. Grampa Matthew died a long time ago right after our real grandmother Clara died when twins Christopher (our Pa) and Louise (our Aunt Weezy) were born. We've always called her Gramma on account of long ago she took in Pa and Weezy and their older sister, our Aunt Dory, and raised them like her own. Gramma's not doing too well and Ma says Thank God she's finally circling the drain. (Ma and Gramma never got on.)

I can see where this can get confusing awfully fast. Ma says it's helpful to include ages so I'm doing that.

Bowman Family: Theodora (Dory), 50 and Uncle Bruce, 52, have six children: Melissa, 30; Theodosia, 28; Lucas, 26; twins Marcus and Sarah, 21; and Maxine, 19. Missy, Teddy and Luke are all married with children. Marc and Sarah are rising seniors at Westminster College in New Wilmington and Max just completed her freshman year there. (All three are home for the summer.) (Note: Uncle Bruce is a veterinarian and has a clinic in town.)

McKenzie Family: Louise (Weezy), 48 and Uncle Roland (Rollie, who's late) had five children: Alexander (Alex, who's also late); Edwina, 16; twins Philomena and Arabella, 13; and Gerald, 11. Eddie, Phil, Bella and Gerry are all still at home. (Note: Uncle Rollie and Cousin Alex both died in the war.)

Schirrman Family: Chris, 48, and Eva, 40, have four children: twins Joshua and James, 20; and twins Benjamin and Tabitha, 18. Josh, Jimmy, Ben and Tabbie all still live at home but Jimmy not for long. Tabbie and I will be starting our freshman year at Waynesburg College this fall. (Note: We farm all the land for all three families.)

That's all of us, near as I can figure. Tabbie's no doubt doing a better job—girls are generally better at keeping score. Anyway... another thing Ma says we should mention is the unusually high incidence of twins—something we might want to warn our future spouses about. Getting writer's cramp so think I'll stop now. Hopefully one whole page is enough to satisfy Ma for tonight. Tabbie's already got two pages. What a showoff!