The Tenth

Slim stopped in the barn, just inside the door that opened into the corral, and watched him. He was doing it again, whatever the heck it was. This was the second time he'd seen it happen. The first time he noticed it, he'd thought about asking him what was going on, but then just shrugged it off. Running a hand through his blond hair, he did the same now, discarding the curiosity and heading back toward the stalls.

Inside the house, Daisy paused as she reached for something in the cupboard and caught a glimpse out the window. What was he looking at? She'd noticed him doing it several times in the past two days, and she still hadn't figured out why. Always focused in the same direction, he'd just stand there staring for a few minutes, and then move on. But there was really nothing there to be watching.

Jess stood near the far side of the corral, his view directed toward the top of one of the green hills that surrounded the ranch house. After a moment or two lost in his thoughts, he realized what he was doing, just standing there gawking. He swallowed hard and tore his gaze away. He cast a sweeping glance back across the ranch yard, hoping no one was there who could have seen his unusual actions. Satisfied that Slim, Daisy and Mike were all busy and paid him no mind, he went on toward the paddock where he'd been heading when the feeling had come over him again. Get back to the matter at hand, Harper. Work t' be done.

"Jess, I'm not waitin' much longer. Get a move on! Or if you want to head out later, I'll just go on and ride into town alone. Just let me know, so I don't waste time."

Slim took a final quick look in the small mirror on the wall. Yep, he's was spruced as all get out! He was gonna give Jess some competition at the dance for sure this time. He was getting darn sick and tired of seeing those girls bat their eyes in his pard's direction. Well, tonight they were gonna take notice of one Slim Sherman.

"I'm 'bout ready. What's your hurry, anyhow?" Jess grumbled as he came out of their bunkroom, decked out in his Sunday-go-to-meetin' clothes.

Slim eyed him suspiciously. "You're usually rarin' to go when there's a dance. What's the matter? Are ya feelin' sick?"

"No. I'm fine," Jess replied in a subdued tone.

He donned his dress Stetson, the one that looked real close in style to his everyday black hat, but was perfectly clean, no dust, no sweat stains around the band. He looked like he'd gone to his usual lengths to get mighty spiffed up, Slim thought. But his attitude was nothing like the eager one Jess usually had when the opportunity to hold a girl in his arms was ahead of him.

Jess strapped on his gunbelt and iron, both of which he'd cleaned and got gleaming along with his fairly new boots. Slim hadn't planned on wearing a gun tonight; after all, it was just a dance they were headed for. But he knew Jess wouldn't leave the house without his rig. And he guessed it was a good idea to have a .45 along, just in case there was any trouble along the way. He hadn't gotten his holster all shined up like Jess's though. He pulled the gun from the leather and took it along to tuck in his saddlebag.

Within a few minutes they were on their mounts and headed to Laramie, with Daisy and Mike waving from the doorstep. The ride seemed longer than usual with Jess not talking much. He didn't seem angry, just quiet. Finally, Slim gave up on conversation. They finished the remaining distance to the barn dance in silence. After hitching his horse to the line, Slim left Jess behind and quickly strode toward the crowd. A snappy fiddle tune was already going, and a good number of couples were stepping onto the dance floor.

"Why, there you are, Slim Sherman!" Addie Mae called at the first sight of the tall rancher. She'd been watching for him, and now sashayed toward him. "You had me worried you weren't going to be here."

All smiles, Slim tipped his hat and offered the young woman his arm, escorting her in the direction of the music.

Jess wandered slowly toward the large group, and was immediately surrounded by four young ladies, all of whom begged for the first dance with him. Jess smiled politely.

"I'll be mighty happy if every one of ya gives me the chance to be your partner for a dance this evenin'." Charm came naturally to him, and even though he didn't feel all that excited for the festivities, there was no call to disappoint a lady.

The girls all were thrilled, and throughout the next hour and a half they each eagerly waited their turn. It took a while, because although Jess was known to be a great dancer, he didn't want to dance any of the high steppin' numbers he was known to excel in. The only dances he participated in were the slow ones. He didn't have the heart tonight for the jauntier tunes.

But the women didn't complain. There were no regrets about being held securely in Jess Harper's arms. And for some reason, tonight, he held them especially close. He wouldn't talk much, seeming very pensive, almost sad at times. Despite his quiet attitude, the four women who'd initially approached him got more competition from several others, and Jess politely accommodated each one. They all could sense his desire for stillness, almost a need to be comforted. And they were each happy to oblige.

Slim didn't mind at all that for some reason Jess wasn't up to two-stepping or square dancing tonight. That made plenty of lovely ladies available for him to request a dance from, and he got some pretty nice turns around the floor with them. He couldn't help but wonder why Jess spent a lot of time on the sidelines. That wasn't like him. He was never alone though. Always a lady or two sidling up to him.

When another waltz began, Slim approached a blond beauty named Constance who was rather new in town, and she happily agreed to dance with him. They enjoyed a pleasant conversation while moving around the floor, and sat down to have some punch afterward. As they sat there, Jess approached.

He tipped his hat to the young woman. "Excuse me for interruptin', ma'am. Slim, just want'a let ya know I'm gonna head for home."

"Already? It's not even nine o'clock."

"Yeah, well, I'll leave it to you to liven things up 'round here for the rest of the night."

He tipped his hat to Constance again, and left. Slim stared after him for a moment, watching for a limp or any indication of what was wrong. He was now sure that Jess must either be sick or hurting. Maybe he'd gotten injured on the ranch and wouldn't tell anyone. That would be pure Harper, all right, to keep it to himself.

Constance watched Jess leave too. "I'm new in town, and I haven't actually met him so I wouldn't know, but all the girls say he's not acting like himself tonight. They said he's usually very outgoing, but he's being very quiet right now. Is he not feeling well?"

"I'm wonderin' that too." Slim watched as Jess made his way out the door.

The pretty blond studied the tall rancher. "You know, it's surprising. You don't look anything alike."

Slim turned his eyes to her. "Who?"

"You and your brother."

Slim wondered how she even knew about Andy, much less had seen a picture of him. And that must have been how she knew what he looked like. She hadn't been in town long enough to meet him. He'd been back at school for months. But there was a picture of Andy hanging in the Laramie schoolhouse, since he'd been such an exemplary student and served as an inspiration, now that he'd gone on to study in that prestigious school St. Louis. Maybe Constance was friends with the schoolmarm and had stopped by the classroom sometime, noticing the photo and small name plate beneath it.

"Well, he takes after our mother. I look like our father."

"That would explain it." She nodded and smiled.

"Where have you seen Andy?"

Constance frowned in puzzlement. "Where have I…? What do you mean? And I thought his name was Jess. That's what all the girls called him."

Slim chuckled. "Oh, I thought you were talking about my teenaged brother Andy. That quiet fella," he cocked his head toward the door and almost laughed at the notion of that word applying to Jess, "isn't my brother." Then he paused thoughtfully. "Well, you know, actually, he is."

He explained, as he guided her back to the dance floor.

The next few days found Jess becoming even quieter and more introspective.

After he left the breakfast table without eating much, Daisy watched him head out to the barn. "Slim, do you think maybe he has some kind of injury he isn't telling us about?"

"I've wondered the same thing, but he's working just as hard as always, and doing a great job, as usual. If he was hurt, I think I'd notice some difference."

Daisy's brow furrowed. "Well, he isn't eating like usual. Maybe he's not feeling well. I'll ask him." She started for the door, since Jess was preparing to ride out and check fences.

"I think you should give him a little more time, Daisy. Maybe he really just has something on his mind."

She appeared uncertain, but nevertheless agreed to wait.

Daisy became more fretful, though, when she got up in the middle of the night to get a drink of water and saw Jess standing outside beside the corral, staring off into the distance again. As she watched, he began to walk up the hill, then suddenly stopped and turned around, heading back to the house. She retreated into her room, so he wouldn't realize she'd been watching him.

Over the next two days, Jess became more withdrawn. He rarely spoke, and when he did it was only to answer a question or gripe at Slim.

As they were both in the barn one afternoon, Jess stalked past a metal barrel and snapped, "Why can't ya find a better place to keep this dadgum kerosene?"

Slim straightened up from his bent position working on Alamo's shoe. "What's the problem with the kerosene being right where it is? That's where Pa always kept it. It's not in your way," he said calmly.

Jess looked at him for a second, and Slim was alarmed at what he glimpsed in the Texan's eyes. He sounded aggravated, but that look, though fleeting, was one more of… fear.

"Just seems like… it's not good… it…" Jess's breathing seemed strained. "Never mind. It's fine." He stomped out of the barn, leaving a baffled and concerned friend staring after him.

The day proceeded with an even greater amount of silence from Jess. When the afternoon stage pulled in, Mose pestered him in their normal joshing manner to hurry up with the team change, expecting some lighthearted banter in return.

"Hey, Jess, we gotta get this coach going, mister! No passengers this run, but lots of mail. And we got a bunch of wanted posters come in for Sheriff Cory. Guess you prob'ly ain't wantin' 'em to get there though, are ya? 'Cause you're likely on one!" Mose guffawed at his own joke. "I reckon ya had yerself a passel of troublesome times down Texas way, huh?"

Slim drew up from the traces he'd been attending to, grinning and expecting to hear an insulting comeback, just the way the two men always went at each other. Instead, he heard nothing. But what he saw shocked him.

Jess stood still, feet planted wide, gritting his teeth and glaring at the old man ─ or more like through him. The fingers on both his hands flexed in agitation, and his right hand, hovering near his gun, was shaking so bad, Slim could see the tremors from his position five yards away.

Mose saw it too, and his expression morphed from mirth to bewilderment to trepidation. Not knowing if an apology would make things better or worse, Mose simply kept quiet and stared at the dark haired rancher.

Jess's chest heaved with quickened breaths, and finally he lowered his head. When he raised it again, the anger was gone, replaced with immense sorrow. The trembling spread from his hand until practically his entire body was quivering. With a faraway look in his eyes, he slowly shook his head.

Slim gingerly took a step toward him. "Jess, you okay?" he asked quietly.

The younger man moved his eyes in Slim's direction. Simply nodding, he walked slowly away and into the barn, leaving the changing of the team to a perplexed and worried Slim and a relieved Mose. As the two men set about finishing the work, Mose whispered, "What in blazes happened there, Slim?"

Slim glanced toward the barn, but saw no sign of Jess. "I wish I knew, Mose. But I'm sure it didn't have anything to do with you. Not really."

Right after the stage pulled away, Jess climbed into the saddle and, without a word, headed Traveller in the opposite direction from the stage's route and galloped away. He hadn't returned by the time the entire household was asleep. Slim found him at midnight, in the barn, sacked out in Trav's stall, his head resting on his saddle on the floor beside his horse. Worried, but assured Jess was all right, he returned to the house, leaving the Texan and his strange behavior to rest there.

After the noon meal the next day, Slim headed to Laramie to talk over a few things with three other ranchers. They gathered in the saloon, which wasn't near as rowdy as usual. Taking seats at a table in the back, they began their discussion.

"Men, the first round's on me." Slim grinned. And since there wasn't a single one of the girls who usually served drinks around for some reason, Slim strode over to the bar, asked for a pitcher of beer and four glasses, and waited for a tray to be filled with the order. Next to him, a well-dressed gentleman ordered a beer. The man picked up his mug, and in turning away from the bar with it, bumped right into Slim, sloshing the beer on himself but missing Slim.

"Whoa, mister," Slim said. "Pardon me."

"Not your fault, sir. Mine entirely." The man brushed at his sleeve, which had absorbed most of the brew.

"Well, looks, like you're a little light on your drink now. Why don't you join my friends and me for a few minutes and help yourself to some of our pitcher."

"Thank you, sir. I'd enjoy that."

Introductions were made at the table as newcomer John McCray was made welcome. A few minutes of good-natured conversation passed, covering the weather and beef prices.

"And how about your business, John? What brings you to Laramie?" Marcus, one of the ranchers, asked.

"Just passing through. I'm on my way home to St. Louis from a meeting in California. My company is starting another newspaper, this time in San Francisco."

"Oh, you're one o' them paperboys, eh?" Marcus laughed, and the others joined in. Slim just grinned, wondering how Mr. McCray would take the teasing.

McCray smiled too. "Indeed, I am. I own ten papers west of the Mississippi now. From St. Louis to the coast, from El Paso to Denver." He checked his watch. "I must keep an eye on the time. I don't want to miss my stage. I believe it leaves at three o'clock."

"Yes, it does," Slim responded.

"And Slim oughta know. He runs a relay station twelve miles out," another rancher added. "Him and Harper."

John McCray looked up and sighed. "Harper. Funny that name should come up today."

Slim's eyebrows raised. "Why's that?"

"Because of the date. I'd just been thinking about what happened to a family named Harper. One of my papers did a big story about it at the time." He shook his head. "I still recall it vividly because it was simply so shocking." He drained the last of his beer. "Shocking and evil."

The ranchers all glanced curiously at Slim. His mouth opened to ask a question, but one of Overland's stage drivers, Frank, ducked into the saloon and called out, "Mr. McCray, you'd best hurry and get out to the stage. We're ready to roll."

"Nice of that driver to get me. I guess he saw me come in here." John McCray stood up. "Gentlemen, thank you for your hospitality and the drink. Perhaps I'll pass this way again sometime and return the favor."

He started for the door, and Slim quickly stood and caught up with him. "John, hold on a minute, could ya?"

McCray halted just after stepping outside onto the boardwalk. "What is it, Slim? I don't want to miss the stage."

"I'll make sure they wait." Slim gestured to Frank, and the driver nodded. "I'm wonderin' about this Harper story you were talking about. I, uh, I think I've heard a little about it. In Texas, right? I didn't realize it was around this time of year though."

"Yes, this week marks the tenth anniversary of the massacre of the Harper family in the Texas panhandle. A fire set by the Bannister gang killed nearly all of them."

"Do you remember what day, exactly?"

"Tomorrow, actually. Why do you ask? Say, is the Harper that works with you a relative of the slain family, perhaps?"

Slim didn't want to give the newspaperman any ideas about doing a story on Jess. He shrugged and gave a slight smile. "Harper's not an uncommon name, John. I was just curious."

"Of course. Topic of conversation for you and your friend. Will the stage be stopping by your relay station? Perhaps I could speak with this Harper fellow."

"It'll make a brief stop, but he won't be there." Slim was immensely glad that Jess would be up on the north range until the sun started waning. Ben was helping out on the ranch for a few days, and he'd handle the changing of the team, with Mike assisting.

"Pity. It would be interesting to know if, because of the shared name, he's ever heard about the tragic crime. But of course, probably not. Wyoming is quite a ways from Texas. Now, I really should board. I don't want to cause a delay for the stage line."

Slim stuck his hand out. "Well, have a good trip back east, John. Been nice meetin' ya."

McCray shook the offered hand and climbed into the stage. Slim returned to the table where his friends waited.

"What was that all about, Slim? Jess's family got some kind of trouble these days?" Marcus asked.

"No. Nothing happenin' with his family." Slim took a shallow breath. "Now, let's get back to business."

Slim woke at his usual 5:30 a.m. and got ready to prod Jess out of bed. But the dark haired man wasn't there. Slim dressed and headed toward the kitchen. Daisy, staring out the window, startled at his greeting. "Mornin', Daisy."

"Oh, Slim, you frightened me."

"Sorry." Slim poured a cup of coffee. "What ya lookin' at?"

Daisy turned worried eyes to him. "It's Jess. He's out there again, Slim. Doesn't even have his jacket on."

"Well, it's April, Daisy, not January. It's not that cold."

"Before the sun comes up, it's pretty nippy. I don't want him to catch a chill. He hasn't seemed to be feeling well lately. Take it to him, will you? Maybe you can find out what's bothering him."

Slim glanced out the window. "I kind of have an idea already." He continued to watch as Jess made the summit of the hill.

Slim grabbed a biscuit and buttered it. As he ate it and gulped down some coffee, every once in a while he glanced again out the window. Jess hadn't returned.

Slim set his hat on his head, pulled his own jacket on, and grabbed Jess's from the hook by the front door, noticing that his friend's gunbelt with his iron in it lay on the couch. More unusual behavior. Jess never started the day without putting on that holster before he left the house. It seemed he'd taken it from his bed's headboard where he hung it at night, changed his mind about wearing it and just left it lay. The tall rancher pondered what that meant. There was only one place Slim knew of that Jess wouldn't wear his gun. Church. Out of respect for the sanctity of the place. "Shouldn't be packin' a Colt on holy ground," Jess said.

Slim headed out into the increasing light of daybreak. Pausing at the foot of the hill, he considered Jess's mood the past few days. It was obvious, now, where the Texan went once he crested that particular hill. But why?

Slim quietly came over the rise and stood silently taking in the scene ten feet in front of him. Jess was down on his left knee, his right arm draped across his right thigh, his black Stetson in his hand. His back to Slim, he faced the graves of Matthew and Mary Sherman.

Slim caught the hushed tones coming from the dark-haired cowboy.

"So that's how I feel. I had to tell ya. 'Cause I want ya to know… how grateful I am for what you've given to me." Jess's head dipped lower for a moment, then rose with a slight nod. "I got brothers agin now. And a home. …And I got you to thank for that. You raised a real good man. Two of 'em."

Slim didn't want to disturb or embarrass his friend by speaking or by either moving forward or leaving. So he just stood there.

"And all that stuff I said… well, I've told 'em before m'self. But if you see 'em up there… I'd sure be obliged if ya'd tell 'em agin for me. Tell 'em… I miss 'em so much…"

Jess leaned down and buried his face in his elbow of the arm resting across his leg. No further sound came from him, and finally he lifted his head and wiped his shirtsleeve across his eyes.

He gulped several deep breaths. "But I'm livin' a good life. And most times now, I'm mighty happy. Just like… just like I know they'd want me t' be."

He put his hat on, but made no move to rise and said nothing further.

Slim stood still for a couple of minutes more. "Jess?"

Jess's head jerked to the side as he glanced up at Slim. He hadn't known his friend was there and had no idea how long he had been or what he might have heard. But rather than feeling ashamed, he quietly said, "Hope ya don't mind, Slim."

Slim shook his head. "No, pard. I don't mind." He took a step forward and waited.

Jess turned back to look at the gravesite. "I don't… I don't have no place to visit for my ma and pa. Or my brothers. Or sisters." He drew a ragged breath. His voice came low and raspy. "Nothing left. No buryin'. Never had nowhere to go… for sayin' a proper goodbye."

Slim swallowed the lump in his throat.

Jess got to his feet, his eyes still fixed on the ground. "I'll be all right now, Slim." His voice sounded stronger, steadier.

Slim took the remaining steps needed to reach Jess and held the jacket out to him. Dark blue eyes raised to meet light blue, and the younger man shook his head slightly as a smile flickered across his lips.

"Go ahead. Put it on. Make Daisy happy." Slim grinned briefly too.

Honoring the request he knew came from the dear lady who had become a second mother to him, Jess slipped the jacket on.

He turned his sight again to the grass-covered resting sites. "Might not make sense, Slim, but… this is where I had to be… to say what I needed to git out o' me."

"It makes plenty of sense." Slim said gently. He tapped Jess on the shoulder. "My folks are yours too."

After a moment of standing together and gazing at the names on the stones, the two brothers made their way back to the small house in the valley, to their family's home.

-the end-

Author's note:

Mother's Day and Father's Day are coming up, and it will be a very emotional time for me. I have lost my mother, father, a sister and a brother.

The goodbyes were difficult of course, as all such goodbyes are for every family. I had the experience, though, of mourning at the recent funeral services, and it is helpful, necessary even, to be able to express strong feelings. And I had lots of support from others grieving with me. The process of grieving can take a while, and I'm still processing things and asking the questions we all ask, I suppose. Why did things turn out the way they did? I feel great sympathy for people going through loss, and for those who need support and don't receive it to the degree they need.

I guess that's why the idea came to mind of Jess never having that opportunity to grieve his family's deaths, of needing it so badly, of finally finding a proper way to let out the anxiety he'd been carrying as the 10th anniversary approached, and getting strong support from Slim. So I set aside everything else today and sat down and just focused on writing this story. I guess it was kind of cathartic, another way of letting sad feelings be expressed. Maybe someone reading it will find some aspect of it helpful too. I hope so. Sometimes just having a good cry is, in itself, somewhat healing.

Okay, now that I've gotten some emotions out through this story, I'll feel like writing happier tales. I sure want to do that for you, dear readers. Thanks for bearing with me. I'm grateful for this FanFiction community and the opportunity it provides to share creatively what comes into our minds and hearts, and to pour that creativity into our beloved "Laramie."

I'm sure the special days to honor parents in May and June will be bittersweet for others as they will be for me. Many families have experienced loss from this pandemic in the past year, and from a lot of other causes too. For everyone in a situation of facing loss, you are in my prayers and the prayers of many other people. Know that you have that type of support. Know that people are praying for you daily, even though they don't know you, because we truly care.