Chapter 29: TWO DEGREES OF SEPARATION
The next Jess knew, Andy's hand was shaking him awake and daylight was streaming through the open flaps.
"Rise and shine, partner. We've got fish to catch!"
"Huh? What?" Shielding his eyes against the light, Jess sat up and swung his legs off the cot, remembering just in time to set the right one down gently. He needed a minute to orient himself—tent, empty cot, camp chair, empty bedroll, wooden stool, table... and on the table: coffee pot, cups, spoons, sugar jar, tinned milk...
Jess croaked and pointed a finger. Andy grinned and turned to fix cups for them both. Handing Jess his, the youngster appropriated the camp chair and stretched his legs out, crossing them at the ankle, his expression somewhere between the cat that got the cream and the one that ate the canary.
"Where is everybody?" Jess finally managed to articulate. That was the trouble with sleeping like the dead for so long... when you finally did wake up you felt like you'd died!
"Let's see... Miss Ellie took Lucy and Katie off to visit that cave they missed seeing the other day—that day we met 'em. It's Terry and Viva's turn to hunt. Josie and Thea are out collecting plant specimens. We've got the camp to ourselves..."
"Speakin' of camp... you been over to check on ours?"
"Oh... that's right... I've been waiting to tell you... Lucy helped me pack up and move yesterday. Our horses and mules are turned out with theirs."
"Move... where?"
"Close by here. We'll be sleeping in our own tent tonight..."
Which reminded Jess... where had Andy slept last night... and with whom? He opened his mouth to ask, then—recalling the doctor's words '... he's man enough'—reconsidered and shut it again. No denying the allusion...
My adopted brother's grown up and I never seen it comin.'
That made him sad and proud at the same time. That kid he'd befriended years ago wasn't a kid anymore. Jess wondered if Slim had yet arrived at that realization. He and Slim hadn't talked much about Andy in recent years, since he'd been away at school. And they no longer fought over him as they occasionally had back in the early days of Jess' residency in the Sherman household.
Sure, there was another child on the ranch these days, but Mike was an entirely different case as Slim and Jess were, in effect, co-parents with equal rights in his upbringing. Too, Mike's personality was radically different from Andy's, being much more manageable and much less introspective than Andy'd ever been. Perhaps having a woman in the home—Aunt Daisy—was responsible for that.
Jess waited to see if any admission would be forthcoming, harking back to the days the boy couldn't wait to share any new experience with his hero buddy. When he'd run to the gate to greet Jess as he rode up, face sparkling with excitement and words bubbling up like clear water from a spring. Those days were gone. Jess would just have to accept that.
Slim's gonna absolutely shit a brick. He's gonna kill me.
"More coffee?" Andy's question intruded on Jess' thoughts.
"Uh... sure... yes, please..."
Replenishing Jess' mug, Andy returned to the chair. "Miss Ellie says it's time for you to start walking on your own."
"An' how'm I 'sposed to do that? It hurts, dammit!"
"You walked last night."
"With her help."
"And you'll walk today... without help. She says there's no reason you can't... your ankle's sound enough to put weight on it. She says..."
"She says... she says. Who died an' made her queen?" Jess barked.
"Nobody. But she is the doctor, remember?"
"How can I forget?"
Andy stood slowly and with great deliberation lowered his tin mug to the table.
"I don't know what's eatin' you, Jess. You ought to be pleased. There's no call to be taking out your bad mood on me."
"Andy... I..."
"I'll be outside. Gimme a holler when you're ready."
Andy stalked out, leaving an astonished Jess to reflect that it'd been years since the kid'd got in his face about anything. He'd long forgot Andrew Sherman owned a temper and stubborn streak every bit as fierce as his older brother's... or his own, for that matter. Where he differed from his elders was in his ability to restrain those traits with poise and reserve.
After dressing himself and making use of the thundermug, Jess lay back on the cot and studied the tent's ceiling. Why was he in such a thunderous mood? He couldn't very well continue to be annoyed with the doctor and her gaggle of students. After all, once they'd got past the initial suspicion of his and Andy's presence, they'd been nothing but kind and helpful and generous... especially in coping with his unbelievable spate of bad luck.
He had to admit that, in addition to his battered physical condition, his psyche was taking a hell of a beating... men were supposed to be the leaders and protectors and he wasn't in any shape to do either. At the moment he was pretty danged useless as a representative of the male of the specie... not that he could see any of these ladies needing leading or protecting... but what if they did?
Although Jess couldn't pinpoint anything Ellie Jo had said or done that would indicate she was looking down her nose at him, he had a sneaking suspicion that she might be just toying with him. She was probably thinking what a sorry specimen of manhood he was, and laughing up her sleeve at his ineptness. If it weren't for her happening to possess the doctoring expertise he needed, she probably wouldn't have bothered to give him the time of day... certainly wouldn't take the time to get to know him. She probably assumed a man like him wouldn't know the meaning of morals, scruples and ethics. And if she found out what he was—used to be, he corrected himself—why, she'd be downright horrified.
Jess couldn't pretend he wasn't aware of his attractiveness to women of all ages. Whether spruced up in his Sunday go-to-meetin' duds or filthy and unshaven from having just come off a trail drive, heads turned when he walked by. And over the years he'd had his dalliances with respectable, nonprofessional females—just not as many as everyone seemed to think. For one thing, there weren't that many unattached ones (mavericks, in his mind) running around loose, and the ones what were were generally trolling for husbands, which Jess didn't have any interest in becoming one of. Not yet, anyway. Maybe some time in the misty future.
Like most every other unmarried man his age, Jess was accustomed to satisfying his needs with partners for hire wherever available. He didn't have a lot of experience with mature, upperclass women... certainly had never bedded one... although he could admire someone like Professor Wainwright, appreciate her looks if she had any, and think about what it might be like. The lady fell within the guidelines of his admittedly loosely-constructed moral code, but he wasn't about to risk giving offense by making unwelcome overtures. Too, he felt he needed to present, for Andy's sake, a model of proper conduct in the presence of the six younger women. Well... he had felt that way.
Jess had two strict rules about dealing with females, one of which he'd violated a time or two with disastrous consequences and much regret... and that was Married Women—always a bad idea no matter how willing. The second was Underage Girls—morally reprehensible no matter that the young lady in question who looked to be a ripe old eighteen-year-old turned out to be fourteen. Either one was likely to get you shot or hung.
It was almost comical... here he was in the back of beyond, with a now not-so-innocent sixteen-year-old boy, an attractive but unattainable mature woman far above his pay grade, and six equally attractive nubile girls above the age of consent. And there was nothing he could do about any of it.
Boring and unproductive, a solitary pity-party generally wears itself out early due to lack of commiseration. Jess again sat up and shoved his feet in his moccasins. Then he called out for Andy.
Acting as though nothing was amiss, Andy put together lunch from bread and cold meats. Jess was ravenous, having missed breakfast. They ate together in polite silence.
"Look, Andy... I'm sorry," Jess ventured meekly, handing over his empty plate.
"I know."
"You mentioned fishin'?"
"I did. Only if you're interested..."
"I'm interested."
Andy finally grinned. "I've already got the horses and gear ready..."
"You know me too well."
"I should hope so by now."
"Especially how to make me feel guilty..."
"Yeah... that, too."
Andy'd scouted out a prime fishing spot on the northwest corner of the lake where boulders tumbling down the Sugarloaf had formed a natural deep hole. A narrow trail serpentining through rocky crevasses debauched into a secluded open oval with enough grass to keep the horses busy for hours. Flat-topped rocks just right for sitting—some in full sunlight and some in the shade of stunted brushy trees—were strewn along a short stretch of pebbly shore with a two-foot drop-off. Once dismounted, Jess needed less than a dozen steps to the perch of his choice while Andy unloaded their gear.
The hours passed peacefully. Without thinking too much about it, Jess migrated from one side of the shore to the other, shifting from rock to log to stump and back to log, most of the time not even bothering with the crutch or the walking stick. Andy intentionally made no offer to assist, other than to caddy tackle and bait.
The fish seemed to be striking Jess' surface-floating flies and Andy's weighted-hook worms with equal gusto until action waned as afternoon shadow settled over the pool. Reckoning they had enough on their stringers to feed all nine mouths (ten counting Bismarck), Jess called a halt and they started packing up.
On the way back Andy detoured by the reconstructed campsite, where Jess made a point of commenting that Andy'd done a good job of site selection and set up. Their small slant-sided tent was pitched between a single large slab of limestone, suitable for sitting, and a thicket of dense bushes which would afford privacy for other needs. Everything that wouldn't fit in the tent was secured under a tarp nearby.
To tell the truth, Jess wasn't looking forward all that much to sleepin' on the ground, now that he'd got used to the luxury of a cot. Havin' to get down on his knees an' up again was goin' to be an allfired nuisance, but he'd manage somehow. Not only that, they'd be eatin' their own cookin' again. On the other hand, he'd sure sleep better without that consarned woman right there yammerin' in his ear an' tellin' him to go to sleep like a little kid. Yessir. He was sure of it. 'Course, it hadn't been so bad. She'd treated him pretty good... aside from all that teasin'... lookin' after him when he was sick an' all. Fixin' his foot up. An' now he'd never know, would he? If she was just puttin' him on an' all. Why couldn't women be more like men... say what they mean an' mean what they say? Then he wouldn't have to worry about it, would he?
"Looks like the ladies are back, Jess." A totally unnecessary observation as Jess could perfectly well see three of them wending their way upslope toward the hot spring. Two—Terry and Viva—were sitting cross-legged near the campfire, plucking feathers from whatever wildfowl they'd bagged. Andy rode on ahead brandishing the burlap sack full of fish like spoils of war and dropped it next to Viva, getting an ear-to-ear grin in return.
"Fish fry! All right! You gonna help clean em?"
"Sure I will. Let me get Jess situated first and turn the horses out..."
"What about these ducks?" Terry demanded with a frown.
"I'll help, soon's I get down from here..." Jess volunteered and instantly regretted. Those hours out in the fresh air had tired him out and he'd almost dozed off a time or two. His intention had been to have Andy help him to the tent—Ellie's tent—where he could grab a snooze on the cot before supper. But would that even be appropriate, now that he'd been semiofficially turfed out?
The petite Californian arranged a spot for Jess next to the duck-plucking operations, where he could sit in the shade with his back against a rock. Plunking herself down facing him, she tossed him a carcass and pointed to each of three baskets in turn. "Primaries for fletching in there, secondaries for mattresses in there, and down for comforters and pillows in there. When we're done I'll show you how to go after pinfeathers..."
"Ya will, will ya?" Jess grinned at the little brunette. "If I had a nickel for every chicken my ma made me pluck...!"
"Really? I wouldn't have expected a gunfighter to be an expert chickenplucker as well."
The grin faded. "Who's sayin' I'm a gunhawk?"
"We all know who you are..." The girl held his stare without flinching. "Or were... if you prefer. We also know you're retired... more or less."
"What would a little thing like you know about it... or me?" This was the last place Jess would've expected the spectres of his past to fly up and slap him in the face.
Terry paused, leaning far forward to touch her fingertips to the toes of his outstretched leg, her brown eyes radiating kindness and sympathy. "I have a black-sheep brother with a reputation as grim as yours, if that's possible." She resumed depluming the expired bird. "For years we've watched him struggle to move away from it, to escape its shadow. We... his family and friends... are confident that in unity we can help him overcome his past."
"You're telling me this... why?"
"I suppose because I see a lot of him in you. Andy's spoken fondly of your relationship... made it abundantly clear that you're considered a member of the family, as much as if you'd been born into it. You're fortunate to have them. They're lucky to have you. Always remember that."
Jess still didn't understand why Terry had brought this up, but it was like chicken soup for the soul to be reminded he was important to somebody. Two more gutted ducks awaited their attention. They'd be at this for a while.
"So Miss Ellie knows... you know... about me?"
"I believe I said as much."
"And she don't... it don't bother her none?"
Terry eyed him speculatively. "Professor Wainwright keeps her impressions and opinions to herself unless we ask for them. She wants us to be able to make pragmatic evaluations without undue influence."
"So y'all been talkin' about me?"
"Of course. Did you think we wouldn't?"
"I ain't never met anyone like her before... or the rest of you, neither," Jess admitted. "I guess what I'm sayin' is I ain't used to bein' 'round so many women smarter'n me. Makes me feel dumb as a fencepost."
Terry shook her head, smiling. "From what Andy says, there's no question of your intelligence, Jess," she said quietly. "It's not a matter of smarts... it's a matter of educational opportunity being restricted to the privileged few of our generation. Post-war industrial revitalization and the natural evolution of societal dynamics are going to change all that. Too late for you but not for your children."
"I ain't got any children, Miss Terry."
"You will someday."
"What's that got to do with all you girls... ladies... set on doin' mens' work?"
"Don't you see? If we women hope to achieve gender equality by the turn of the century, we have to fight for it now. We have to prove ourselves. The next generation—our children—will be coming to maturity then, and if we want them to have equal access to quality education regardless of financial circumstances, regardless of gender, we have to lay the groundwork now..."
"You mean like women gettin' the vote here in Wyomin'?"
Terry shrugged. "Every reform movement has to start somewhere."
Jess held up a placating hand. "Miss Terry... you done got way ahead a me here. I just have two questions you could maybe help me out with...?"
"Yes?"
"First off... you got any idea where Andy spent last night an' why Miss Katie slept in his bedroll?"
"That's two questions."
"I 'spect they's kinda related..."
"Good try but I'm not a tattletale. Next question..."
"D'ya think... maybe... Miss Ellie looks on me with any favor... or..." He left the rest of it unsaid.
Terry was silent for the longest time. "Can't answer that."
"Can't... or won't?"
"Both. It's not my place to interpret her emotional state... or yours, for that matter. And we sisters of the sorority have a pact to honor individual privacy in matters of... well... those matters."
Jess cocked his head and gave the young woman the full benefit of his vaunted animal magnetism (or so, on more than one occasion, he'd been told he possessed)... leprechaun smile in place, blue eyes open wide, eyebrows enticingly tilted upward in humble supplication...
"Throw a poor old dog a biscuit?"
The girl laughed. "Your powers of persuasion are certainly as advertised, Mr. Harper!"
"I do try!"
"Let me put it this way... if she decides to sleep with you, she will. And if she decides otherwise, tough luck."
Shocked into silence, Jess kept his face averted and concentrated on his nearly naked duck for the next fifteen minutes. He didn't dare look at his plucking partner but heard her chuckling from time to time.
Thea and Josie strolled into camp with gunny sacks of plunder slung over their shoulders, followed by Andy and Viva each toting a pail of fish filets. A hastily convened meal-planning conference settled on fish rolled in cornmeal and fried in bacon grease and hush puppies. Along with plant specimens, Thea and Josie had scored a variety of edible greens which they assured would be delicious when cooked with a chunk of fatback and a dash of vinegar.
Jess was reinstalled on the seat of honor and allocated the chore of grinding coffee beans. Everyone paused to listen to unseen voices raised in harmony—the trio returning from the springs. They were singing an old slave spiritual Jess recognized from his childhood...
'As I went down in the valley to pray, studying about that good old way,
When you shall wear the starry crown... Good Lord, show me the way.
O sister, let's go down... let's go down... won't you come on down,
O sister, let's go down... down in the valley to pray.'
They left the path and came into view single file, Ellie Jo carrying the torch lighting their way. In their identical white cotton chenille robes they gave the impression of angels come to visit down from the mountain. Unfortunately, Jess was immediately put in mind of the three angels of Revelations, come to pronounce woe on the world. His skin prickled.
As the women in camp added their voices in the next stanza, goosebumps crowded out the prickles—seven voices now suggested the seven angels of the Apocalypse and their trumpets of doom. Jess had no idea why his brain retained so much biblical imprintation from his youth—especially the scary bits like the evil portents of the number seven. But he figured any unhappy connotations were more than cancelled by the beauty of their harmony, led by Ellie Jo's rich contralto.
During supper, Ellie Jo approached him briefly to inquire if he intended using the hot springs that evening. Nothing in her manner suggested anything other than professional interest. Whatever playfulness she'd exhibited earlier was conspicuously absent and she artfully maintained her distance throughout an otherwise jolly meal.
The girls were fluttering around Jess on his rocky throne like the hens did at home when someone stepped into the sideyard with a pan of feed. At first somewhat overwhelmed with all the attention, he soon was holding court with a goofy grin. While trying not to hover too closely but taking care to remain within earshot, Andy deduced that the young women had conspired in forming a rota whereby each spent some time in conversation with Jess under the guise of bringing him more food or coffee. At no time was he left unaccompanied.
Quite a few interesting associations came to light during the course of the evening. Katie's cousin Cory had already been mentioned—Jess knew him personally but Andy didn't. Terry's and Josie's brothers were, respectively, a reformed outlaw and a bounty hunter—both of whose names were well-known in the territory. Viva's brother was a Texas Ranger and Thea's was odd-jobbing his way through the West while working on obtaining a law degree through a correspondence course.
Thea and Josie had plotted a safe path up to the pool, cutting back branches and removing as many obstacles and rocks as they could pry up. Rag strips torn from a brightly-colored discarded blouse were tied to short stakes, marking the way at intervals. A signal system had also been devised to simplify pool usage—a white flag fluttering at the entrance meant occupied. When it was taken down, the pool was available.
Spurred by what he perceived as Ellie's challenge, Jess slogged up the slope with crutch and cane. It wasn't easy... and the ankle still hurt... but he made it on his own despite twice tripping on a hidden roots. Though it pained him to admit it, the doctor was right in her assessment. Andy kept his 'I told you so's' to himself.
Upon their return they were apprised of the women's unanimous vote to continue including the two men in mealtimes on the premise that they couldn't possibly sustain themselves on beans, bacon, corn dodgers and catch of the day. The beneficiaries weren't about to argue to the contrary.
"Of course," Terry observed sagely when delivering the decision, "we'd greatly appreciate contributions to the pot. As much as we've been enjoying fish, fowl and rodentia, something on the order of ungulata would be quite welcome..."
"Under what?" Jess asked.
Andy turned to him. "Antelope... deer... elk if we can find one. Whaddya say, you up for a hunting trip tomorrow?"
"Does a bear sh... ? I mean, sure... I can ride!" Jess beamed.
Andy went almost weak with relief... his pard was back!
