Chapter 6: Meanwhile, Back at the Cave

Now, what do you say we change things up a bit, and have a look at what Uncle Jesse an' Luke are up to?

Earlier that morning, after Bo left, Jesse Duke was restless himself. He went back inside by the fire and tried to go back to sleep, but 52 years of habitually waking up at dawn combined with a knot of worry in his gut foiled his efforts. Instead he stoked the fire back up to a blaze and kept an eye on his eldest nephew, who hadn't moved a whisker since Bo left. After adding another hefty log onto the fire, Jesse noticed how low the supply of firewood was running, and decided to collect more. Hopefully the wet wood outside could dry by the flames enough to be useful. He could probably burn some of the loose chunks of coal, but the thick black smoke that would result would be as good as a signal fire to the enemy.

His excursions into the surrounding woods were short, limited by what he could carry and how long he was willing to leave Luke alone. He found thick, heavy branches, cutting them into sizeable pieces with Luke's knife, or young fallen trees that could be broken with the proper leverage. Some logs had been rotting so long, they were useless, but he chanced upon someone's leftover summer woodcuts, a precious cache of pre-cut and only superficially wet logs and smaller pieces. These he gathered with zeal, to feed the hungry flames. Luke slept still, undisturbed by his movements in and out of the cave tunnel.

Eventually, Jesse had hoarded more wood than he could hope to burn in a week, and he stopped, brushing the stubborn wood splinters off his overalls. With the wood gathered and several pieces drying by the flames, he was left again with nothing to do but wait. Restless again, Jesse walked out to the mouth of the cave, and saw that morning had passed and the sun was high in the sky overhead. With a thoughtful frown, his eyes traced the route of the path down to the overgrown parking lot below, many memories contained in the deserted place. He looked out down the road as far as he could see, and imagined the next road meeting up with it a half-mile down, breaking off in two directions - one way led into town, to the main roads, and the other back towards the countryside, past the Downing farm just a little ways on the left…

The thought stuck with him. The Downing farm wasn't very far. Jesse was friends with Joel Downing and his wife Sandy. He could be down there and back with something for Luke to eat when he woke up, and learn some news at the same time. Bo didn't have to be the only one working to solve this. His resolve firming, Jesse went back inside to check on his nephew again. No change, though Jesse wasn't sure whether to be pleased he was resting or worried he was sleeping so long. That settled it, though - less than a mile, he'd be there and back again in a jiffy.

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The walk had been pleasant, though Jesse's results were poor. The Downings weren't home - probably off at Sunday dinner with friends - and Jesse didn't even consider entering their home when they weren't there. He did, though pick up the Sunday paper that a paperboy had thrown onto the porch, and fished into his pockets for a quarter to leave in the mailbox for the boon. In doing so, he also found the card Jed Hawkins had handed him two nights before - John Hawkins, M.D. He replaced it in the pocket of his overalls, a hint of a thought in the back of his mind. Then he'd turned back, rolled paper in hand, across the road and over the wooded hills back to the mine. It was Sunday, Jesse mused, and could hardly believe that he'd forgotten. It was rare that the Dukes didn't go to church together every Sunday morning, dressed in their best and singing along with the hymns. Then he considered how much time he'd spent praying in the last 48 hours, and though he knew it didn't quite make up for missing church, he thought God would understand.

Jesse's heart dropped into his stomach, though, when he came to the edge of the trees below the mine and saw Luke sitting out in plain view, leaning against the cave entrance, apparently dozing. How long had he been there? Had anyone seen him? Jesse hurried across the field and up the path, and when he was close enough, he called to his nephew.

"Luke!"

His voice seemed to startle the young man, who looked up with unfocused eyes and immediately started coughing again. Jesse reached him before he finished, kneeling down next to him. Luke slumped back, exhausted, and spat something green and red onto the dirt.

"Come on, Luke, let's get you back by the fire," Jesse said, pulling his nephew's arm around his neckand lifting him to his feet. Luke wavered before leaning against his uncle, and slowly Jesse guided him back inside. "What were you doing out there, son?" he asked gently.

"I was…was looking for Bo," Luke said wearily. "He's late."

Jesse stopped in the dim light and put a hand to Luke's forehead. He was burning up. "Easy, son, Bo's just fine." Just a little ways further. "He'll be back soon." They rounded the bend where the fire burned brightly, back to the spot against the wall. Jesse didn't let go, eased his nephew to the ground, and sat down himself, beside him. Luke shivered, cold again, and curled up close to his uncle. Jesse threw an arm around him and held him close, staring worriedly at the flickering flames as Luke fell asleep against his shoulder. He hoped Bo would be back soon.

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The newspaper, which Jesse had jammed in a pocket, gave as much information as Cooter and the Kellers told Bo. 'MURDER' was the bold headline splashed across the front page, with pictures of all the Duke family - mugshots even, of the boys - and a long article incriminating enough to almost convince Jesse himself of his own guilt. So when Bo arrived, leading the gelding with clip-clopping echoes up and down the tunnel, he didn't have a lot of information that his uncle didn't already know.

In nearly two hours, Jesse hadn't moved from Luke's side, though the young man had woken at intervals coughing or asking about Bo or Daisy. He was sleeping again when Bo came in, and his cousin's first question was, "How is he?"

When Jesse replied, "Worse," Bo immediately unstrapped the duffel bag from behind the saddle and began pulling out the supplies he'd brought - blankets, food, the canteens that he'd filled at the stream, Mrs. Keller's medicine kit. They covered Luke up and organized the items as best they could, and Bo set the pot to boil water for tea before Jesse shooed him off and made him tend to the horse.

Quickly Bo pulled off the reins and the saddle and dried the horse off briskly. Black Morgan snorted irritably at his speed, but Bo ignored him. When he reached for the horse's halter to tie a lead to a heavy firewood log, though, Bo pulled his hand back just fast enough to avoid the gelding's teeth. "Eh-eh-eh!" Bo tutted a low warning, in no mood for games himself, and took hold of the halter firmly. He tied the knot, trading stubborn looks with the horse, and let go. When he spread a handful of hay out for the gelding, Black Morgan figured he wasn't that bad, and whickered his nonchalance.

Bo, in the meantime, had moved back into the firelight, peering down at his cousin and uncle as he sat against the wall opposite the pair. Luke stirred again under the blankets as he sat down, opening burning eyes to squint across the fire at Bo.

"You're back," he observed hoarsely, sitting up a little straighter.

Bo nodded. "How ya feelin', cuz?"

"Terrible." cough cough. At least he was honest.

"I brought some food back. You want somethin' to eat?"

Luke shook his head, cut off by another hacking fit.

"You need to eat something, Luke," Jesse said, picking up one of the canteens and opening it for him. First he just wet his throat, trying not to choke on the water, but then he drank thirstily, in small gulps, until a third of the canteen was empty. He handed it back to Jesse with quiet thanks, and leaned back against the cool stone wall.

"Here," Bo said, leaning across to place a thick slice of bread in his hand, slathered in strawberry preserves.

Luke smiled tiredly. "You don't give up, do you?"

Bo just smiled triumphantly as he broke the slice in half and took a bite of the soft middle, wincing slightly as he swallowed. Then Bo served Jesse a similar piece of bread and jam as well, and began cutting the cheese and apples into slices. Luke finished all but the hard crust of the bread, but refused anything more. He drank more of the water, and was dozing again while Jesse was still eating. Bo deferred to his earlier meal and handed the bits of food instead to his uncle. He watched his cousin fall asleep, near-empty canteen in hand, with very concerned blue eyes. Jesse moved the canteen and pulled the loose blankets back up to his neck and over his shoulders, as Luke continued to lean against him.

"He needs a doctor," Bo decided firmly, thinking of how to change his plans for the evening. He'd intended to ride back out towards Chickasaw, to collect the only evidence of their innocence. Dusting crumbs off his hands, Bo started to stand up, only to be stopped by Uncle Jesse.

"Hold your horses, now," Jesse waved him back down, smiling as he realized his words. "You don't have to run right off. Let's talk about all this first. What did you find out, out there? Did you have any trouble at the farmhouse?"

Bo shook his head, and told the short tale of his efforts that day, with not a detail left out. In particular, he emphasized his conversation with Cooter, and his original plans for the night. "He said to let him worry about Daisy," Bo finished. "So he must have something in mind to spring her out. At the least he can tell her we're alright, and what's going on. How was things here?"

"Quiet, no trouble. Luke's been…in and out, mostly sleeping. His fever's gotten worse." Jesse told him about his trip down to the Downings' and the article in the newspaper, though he omitted the incident with Luke - no need to worry his nephew unnecessarily. "Anyone who reads this article, friend or not, is gonna think you're guilty, and me for helping you," he said, handing Bo the newspaper. Bo read a few lines by firelight and tossed it aside angrily.

"What now, Uncle Jesse?" he asked, almost wishing he could just curl up and sleep like Luke, so he wouldn't have to think or worry and let someone else take care of things. Then, Bo considered, he usually depended on someone else to plan and think for him - it wasn't comfortable being in the same position.

Jesse considered silently. He, on the other hand, was quite used to his nephews and niece looking to him for guidance, ever since their parents died and he had raised them. He took each new problem in stride, and this was just a much bigger problem than usual.

"Well," he finally spoke, "I think your original plan is a good one. We'll need that evidence if we're going to prove you innocent. But I also think I'd like to add a little bit to it." He reached in his pocket and pulled out the business card. He handed it to Bo, who immediately understood. "After you get those cups, you ride on to the Hawkins place, and talk with Jed and his son. If they're willing, I'd like them to drive out here and pick me and Luke up, so we can get him looked at and take him to the hospital if we need to."

"But…" Bo began to object. The hospital would ask for ID, and they'd be arrested.

"Bo, I'd rather be in jail." Jesse didn't finish the rest of the sentence. "Do you think you can ride that far, tonight?"

The youngest Duke nodded eagerly, "As long as the moon's out, yes." For Luke, anything. Now he pulled himself to his feet, only to hear "Hold it!" before he'd taken a step. He looked back questioningly.

"Let's have a look at those feet."

Bo didn't realize that he'd winced as he put weight on them. Sitting back down, he obediently pulled off his boots, hissing as the socks stuck to the boots and his skin stuck to the socks. Slowly he pulled off each sock, revealing a dozen or more large open and seeping blisters on the soles of his feet, the bleeding product of many miles in little time in boots poorly suited for cross-country racing.

"That's what I thought." Jesse eased away from Luke and shifted through the meager supplies, picking up the canteen, a few of the extra pairs of socks, and the jar of moonshine. The he walked around the fire and pulled the pot of boiling water out of the heat. As Bo watched, he poured some of the boiling water into the canteen, mixing it with the cooler water inside, until the temperature was warm but bearable. Then he poured in a shot or two of the fiery alcoholic drink, and swirled it around together, and Bo understood - it was effectively an antiseptic.

"Hold still," Jesse half-warned, half-ordered his nephew, and gently poured the warm concoction over Bo's sores. Oh, how it burned! Bo grit his teeth, but after the first fierce sting was past, it felt good. Using a dry sock, Jesse wiped his feet off, then applied the mixture again, until it was gone. The waste water drained outwards down the tunnel, leaving a thin wet line behind. Done, Jesse handed Bo two pairs of socks, with orders to double-up on the padding before he put his boots back on. Easing the leather boots back over his feet, Bo sighed in relief.

"Thanks, Uncle Jesse." Now, he could last through the night and on through tomorrow, if need be.

"Oh, you're welcome, Bo. Y'know, you don't have to hide it from me if you're hurtin', or if you're hungry," Jesse nodded towards the apple slices he'd palmed. "Just 'cause Luke's sick, doesn't mean you have to do the job of both of you."

Bo smiled - somehow Uncle Jesse always seemed to figure him out. "Thanks, Uncle Jesse. These, though," he held up the apple slices, "are for the horse. Figured I ought to stay on his good side, if I don't want to be thrown off."

He walked - quite comfortably - over to the edge of the shadows where Black Morgan stood, dropping the hay he'd been working on at the proffered apples. Crunching contentedly, he stood still while Bo lifted the saddle and padding into place, and didn't even try to pull the trick of inhaling deeply so the saddle girth would loosen up later. Bo tightened the fastenings, and waited until the horse was done with the apples before slipping on the reins. He lay his bow across the saddle, where it would sit in front of him while he rode. He also tied a bundle of spare arrows and dynamite behind the saddle in easy reach, along with the small sack, now empty, to put the glasses in. Jesse watched, and when Bo's hands were free he handed his nephew his warm wool coat from the supplies, the extra canteen, and the packet of root-beer candy. Bo smiled, slipping the packet into his coat breast pocket, and checked himself, trying to think if there was anything else he should take. Thinking of nothing more, he looked to Jesse, ready to go.

"You've got everything? The address?"

Bo patted the same coat breast pocket. "Right here."

"You know the way back to that road?"

"Yes sir."

"Good luck then, Bo. Take care of yourself."

For a moment, Bo was tempted to salute, because this felt very much like a military mission. "Yes sir, Uncle Jesse. I'll be back by dawn at the latest, one way or another."

With one more glance at Luke, Bo turned and led the gelding out of the cave into the fading daylight. Jesse watched him disappear into the darkness, and then turned and walked back past the fire to sit with his eldest nephew again, to wait and think and pray.