Epilogue

It had been two days since Slim had talked to Jess about Knute. He hadn't expected for things to change overnight but he had hoped that it would bring Jess out of wherever it was he had mentally retreated to. But he had still seemed unreachable the next day. After breakfast, which he had barely touched, he had excused himself and had headed back out to the barn. Mike had tried to follow but Daisy had stopped him. They had been economical with what they had told him. He knew that Jess was mourning a friend and that he had been sick; there was no hiding that weight loss, and after not having eaten anything for so long it would take time for his system to tolerate anything more than small portions. With the entire town knowing what had happened, they knew that eventually Mike would need to be told the full story but both Slim and Daisy had agreed that it needed to wait until Jess was feeling stronger. He didn't need the boy fussing after him.

And so, being Saturday, and at Daisy's insistence, Slim had taken Mike fishing, as much for Slim's sake as the boy's. Recent events had taken their toll on Slim too and he needed to do something other than worry, and Mike needed some quality time with him after so long away from home staying at the Simmonds' ranch.

It had been hard for Daisy too though. Since the day that Jess had held the gun on her, she had secretly been concerned that if anything was going to drive Jess away, it was what the memory of that was doing to him. Slim had been right to keep her from the bunkhouse while Jess had gone through the painful withdrawal but it had taken Daisy Cooper to finally make him realise what the drug was trying to rob him of and after a hard fought battle, he had successfully emerged the victor. But ironically, she now feared that it was his inability to reconcile this victory with what it had cost that was making him so withdrawn.

But both Slim and Daisy were wrong. There were things that neither of them knew about Jess Harper. The truth was, Jess had just needed time to talk things through, to rationalise his thoughts, to make sense of all that had happened in such a short space of time. But he needed to do it with someone who wouldn't judge; wouldn't offer an opinion; wouldn't offer solutions. Wouldn't, even with the best of intentions, influence his decision with any bias towards their own needs. There was a lot to work through; and Traveler proved to be a good listener.

The next morning Slim had rigged the buckboard early. He had told Jess that they were having a special service that day for Knute and the whole town was going to be there. He held back on telling him about the marker. He had travelled into Laramie the afternoon before, after the fishing trip. After the town meeting Joe Dobbs, the town mason had worked all night and the following day to get the job done and he and Slim had gone up the cemetery to put it in place. Slim had struggled to swallow the lump that appeared in his throat when he read the words for the first time. It was a fitting tribute. But he had known then that Jess had to be alone when he read it. So he wasn't surprised the next morning when Jess had excused himself when he had brought the buckboard around front for Daisy and Mike. In fact, he was glad.

When they arrived back at the ranch, Jess was coming out of the barn with Traveler all saddled and ready to ride. It had been a while since the bay had been ridden and he looked eager to be out galloping with the wind rushing through his mane.

Slim reined up the team and climbed down, instinctively turning to help Daisy down, Mike jumping down of his own accord.

He walked over to his young friend "Going somewhere pard?" He searched his friend's gaunt face, the cheekbones still too pronounced for either his or Daisy's liking.

"Yeah. There's somethin' I gotta do."

"Need some company?"

Jess seemed to hesitate before shaking his head, "Nah, think I need to do this alone. Tell Daisy I'll be back for supper."

"All right pard. But don't make me come lookin' for ya. Reckon I've done enough of that lately."

Jess nodded, for a moment a pained expression passing across his face, before he spurred Traveler on and headed off in the direction of town.

As Slim watched him go, Daisy came scuttling over to him as Mike made good his escape towards the house before anyone found a chore for him to do.

"Oh Slim, do you think you should go after him?"

"Why Daisy. Don't you think he'll come back?"

"Oh, it's not only that. I just don't think he's strong enough to be riding anywhere yet."

"Don't worry, Daisy. He'll be back. I think Jess has learned that he doesn't need to run anymore, maybe hide away sometimes, but not run."

Daisy didn't look convinced. "Even so…"

"Besides, I've gotta hunch where he's going and if I'm right, he'll see the people of Laramie are worth waitin' around for."

"You think he's going to see Knute?"

Slim nodded. "That's what I'm hopin'." He put his arm around her " Now what say you cook up some of that famous fried chicken of yours for supper, and leave Jess to me? I'll unhitch the team and put the buckboard away and then I'll go after him. Make sure he's all right. Deal?"

She returned the hug, clasping him around the waist, "All right, it's a deal."

Less than an hour later as he approached the Laramie Cemetery, on a hilltop just outside of town, he was relieved to see the lone figure standing there silhouetted against the gray clouds gathering overhead. He stood with his head bowed, unmoving.

Traveler was tied up patiently at the fence. As Slim dismounted, and tied up Alamo next to him, the bay whickered as if in greeting. Slim patted his neck.

"I know boy, we gotta give him some time. But I'm sure glad you brought him here."

He slowly made his way up towards the gravesite, wanting to be sure Jess knew he was coming. Whatever private thoughts and emotions he was voicing and purging himself of, he wanted to give Jess the chance to compose himself before he got there. He had been exposed enough the past few weeks.

As he reached his side he put a gentle hand on his pards shoulder. He looked at the grave, covered in floral arrangements so tenderly placed there that morning by many of the womenfolk of the town. As he read the marker once more, the power of the words moved him as much as when he had first seen them.

"Knute Duncan 1849-1872. "Devoted and loyal friend to the end. May we all learn from his example."

Jess swallowed, trying to control the emotion in his voice. "You do this?"

"Nope, towns people did it. They thought it would be an appropriate use of some of the reward money; to give Knute the marker and the recognition he deserves."

Jess shook his head, "His whole life, Knute never had a thing to call his own, not even people to care about him, and it takes him dyin' for people to see just what he was worth."

"That's not true Jess. You cared enough to go after him. And Knute knew that. You gave him more than anyone ever did and I'm as sorry as you are that he's lyin' in his grave but in how he died, he gave something back to you, to me, to this whole town that we can never repay. But in placin' that marker, well, it's the people of Laramie's way of showin' that he didn't die in vain and that they recognise they were wrong, about Knute, about you, about a lot of things. Some may not find it easy to say it out loud, and they might never say it, but in doin' this last thing for someone who was your friend, well maybe it goes some way to start makin' amends for what they've done to you. I know it'll take time but I reckon it's a step in the right direction."

Jess had a far away look in his eye "Maybe." There was a lot to forgive but Jess had never been one to bear a grudge. Not for long anyway.

"Now, you comin' home? Daisy's cookin' fried chicken for supper with apple pie for dessert?" Slim had never known Jess to turn down either.

Jess shook his head; he still had some things to talk through with Knute. "You go on Slim, I'll be along in a while."

"Alright pard. But don't stay too long. There's plenty of work to help build up that appetite and you're sure needin' somethin' to stick to those ribs."

Jess turned to him, an eyebrow raised. "Work? On Sunday?"

Slim grinned impishly "Yeah, well, there's a certain buckskin that needs to be broke. I've been keepin' him specially for ya."

Jess gave a wry grin. The first time Slim had seen him smile since before he'd gone riding after Knute all those weeks before. "Can't see Daisy lettin' me go breakin' no horse with my shoulder an' all?"

Slim laughed as he turned to walk away. Jess had turned a corner. It would take time, but he was going to be fine. "Guess not. Well, I'll save him 'til you're ready pard. Reckon he'll keep a mite longer."

Jess smiled as he turned back to the grave of his friend "I reckon he will at that."

THE ENDAcknowledgements

Words cannot adequately express the gratitude I feel towards Mary Brown for the constant support, encouragement and quite frankly, endurance through this writing process, giving me the confidence and stamina to carry on when I hit a wall (I hit several) and for gently cajoling me, with reasoned arguments when my stubbornness (and fatigue) risked making some questionable and rather contrived plot development decisions. This has been the toughest story I have ever written and I don't think I could have done it without her. She deserves a medal and a good rest! Thanks, pard.

And I would also like to thank a certain blue-eyed cowboy who sent me some inspiration just when I needed it……