Chapter Four

They all sat quietly, almost afraid to move, each lost in their thoughts. Andy wiped his tear-stained face. Slim wondered what thoughts were going through Jess's mind now. Finally, with a pensive look in his eyes, Jess quirked the right corner of his mouth in a very slight smile. "Thinkin' on that Christmas and them peppermint sticks even helped me deal with the pain when I was shot and got hauled off to that Yankee field hospital."

Jonesy's head jerked up, and he gaped at Jess. That boy never, ever talks about his experience in the war, not unless forced into it.

The only time he'd mentioned anything was when Andy had hounded him to tell about being captured by the Union, and later Jess had privately shared with Jonesy about his injuries, imprisonment, and interrogation by Yankee officers. He'd explained only to Jonesy that the reason he never wanted to talk about battles was because he didn't want to find out if he and Slim could have been at the same one. Jess simply didn't want to know if they had ever fought against each other. Jonesy had promised not to discuss the particulars of their conversation with anyone, not even Slim. He always hoped that eventually Jess might open up a bit more about it on his own, and now that he was beginning to, it took the older man by surprise. He wondered though, how far the boy would be willing to go. That incident of recalling the peppermint to help him through his pain when he was wounded seemed to have been shared on the spur of the moment, kind of accidentally slipping out. Maybe he wouldn't say any more about the war.

Jonesy looked over at Slim and saw a startled frown on the man's face. Slim's voice matched his expression. "Jess, you never told me you were treated in a Union field hospital."

Jess locked eyes with the rancher and then the little brother. "You didn't tell 'im, Andy?"

Slim also looked at his brother. Andy glanced at Jess and shook his head, then turned to his big brother.

"I felt so bad about badgering Jess into telling me about being captured, I didn't think I should tell ya anything about what he said. Out of respect for Jess. I was trying to make it up to him for pestering him like I did."

Slim smiled. "That was real respectful of ya, Andy, to keep that in confidence for Jess."

Jess's bewilderment showed as he looked at his pard. "You knew I'd been wounded, Slim. You knew I'd been captured. What did ya think happened?"

Slim shrugged. "Well, I knew you'd had a bad gunshot wound. But I didn't know you were captured at that same time. I guess I always figured your own troops had treated you, and then while you were recuperating with your own unit, you'd been captured along with the rest of your patrol and sent to the prison camp. Never put two and two together that it was the Union that took care of your wound."

Jess began to feel uncomfortable at the discussion of his war experiences. He'd always been careful to avoid the subject with Slim, worried that if they got too deep into it, they might discover they could have been at the same battle. And, God forbid, what if it turned out that Slim was the one who had shot him? To have a history like that come to light would absolutely shatter their brotherly bond. Jess made sure never to take the chance of finding out where Slim had fought and never spoke of where he himself had. He could kick himself now, for even mentioning the field hospital and the connection of the peppermint memory to what he'd gone through in that battleground tent. He hoped Slim would just let it go and not think about it anymore, much less talk about it.

A minute passed, and Slim, obviously in a reflective mood, said, "I remember thinking on good memories too, to get through the homesickness during the holidays down in Georgia. Sure was unusual for us northern boys to be where it was so warm at Christmastime."

Jess let out a hushed sigh of relief. Slim had fought in the Deep South! Not where he had been shot and captured, up farther north in Virginia. He'd just begun to relax when Slim said something that set him on edge again.

"Yep, it sure was different being down there that one winter."

"Didn't ya always fight there, in the far south, I mean?" Jess asked hesitantly. As soon as the words left his mouth, he wished he could pull them back. What am I doin', keepin' talk of the war goin'?

Slim was surprised too, but pleased, that Jess was opening up and talking about the war more than he ever had before. "Not all the time. My unit got moved around to quite a few places. Some were way down south, some farther north." He saw this as an opportunity to find out more about the field hospital. Scowling in thought, he directed a scrutinizing look in Jess's direction. "Where, Jess?"

"Where what?" Jess asked anxiously. Jonesy could see the nervous energy beginning to build in the boy.

"Where were you when you got shot and taken to the Union field hospital?"

Jess, his eyebrows drawing into a frown, looked at Jonesy. The older man knew some of the details that he'd tried so hard to hide. And also understood why he'd kept them hidden.

Jonesy's eyes filled with compassion. "Go on, boy. It's time to get this out in the open."

Jess adamantly shook his head. Some of the color drained from his face. Setting the gift box aside, he came quickly to his feet and hurried to the kitchen. He had to get out! Had to leave the house, as he always did when a conversation turned to talk of battle locations. He pulled his boots on, but when he reached to take his coat from the peg where he'd hung it by the side door, it wasn't there. Then he remembered Jonesy had moved it to the rack by the front door where the heat from the fireplace would dry it. His eyes darted from the side door to the one that led out of the kitchen to the front yard, and for a few seconds he considered the absolutely crazy notion of going outside without a coat. Coming to his senses, he realized he couldn't do that. Couldn't head out into a blizzard without so much as a jacket. He drew a deep breath and charged back into the main room with one goal in mind, heading toward the front door to retrieve his coat and get out of the house, out of this conversation. He didn't think beyond that.

Jonesy and Andy still sat where they had been, both of them with eyes wide, and worriedly watched him as he rushed forward toward the door. But Slim was on his feet and deftly moved in front of the coat rack.

"Jess, what in tarnation are ya plannin' to do?" Slim's voice was low, but carried concern, not anger.

Jess stared at his friend, but didn't answer. Because he didn't have a plan. Only a need. To get out! But he couldn't tell Slim why.

"I need to check on Trav." It was the only reason he could come up with immediately, as he tried to reach around Slim to grab his coat.

But an easy sideways step from Slim blocked access to the rack.

"You just did that less than two hours ago," the tall rancher said evenly. "Traveller's fine."

Slim recognized Jess's action as the same one he always took when the location of a battle came into the conversation mix. He tried to leave. Slim didn't know why the Texan so strictly avoided discussing specifics of the war, and he had always just let Jess do what he felt he needed to. But not under these circumstances. "And a blizzard is no time to step outside just to get some air."

The emotions of the day had been running high for Jess—the kindnesses of the Shermans and Jonesy, the recollections about his last Christmas with his family, the memories of the war, and now the worries about it—they had all created a situation and roused feelings he didn't want to deal with any further. Without another word, he turned on his heel and headed into the bunkroom. Once there, though, he had no idea what his next move would be or what direction he should head. All he knew was he had to stop the direction the conversation was headed, before it led to possibly revealing a fact he didn't want to hear. He stood for a moment, feeling cornered, his breath coming in strained huffs.

Slim had taken a step toward the bunkroom, when Jonesy clamped a hand onto his arm. "Just you wait a minute. Let me see to him."


Jess stood in the middle of the room, hands leaning on the counter that ran the width of the cabinet there, which somewhat separated the room into two parts. His back was to the door when a calm, mature voice reached his ears, coming from the man standing just inside the bunkroom doorway.

"Jess, I want to talk to ya."

There was no response.

Jonesy took a step further into the room. "You got a home here, Jess," Jonesy said soothingly. You got a family now."

No movement came from the young man. Jonesy took another step toward him.

"You ain't gonna lose us, son."

Jess's head dipped. Other than that, he stood stock-still. Jonesy could see the tension in the broad shoulders.

"Nothin's gonna change between you and Slim, even if you find out the worst."

Both hands pulled away from the counter and dropped to Jess's side as the fingers began to clench and flex. He remained where he was and stared ahead at the far wall, searching for a suitable way to turn the tide. He'd just have to tell Slim that Christmas wasn't a time to discuss battles. He would insist that they drop this kind of talk. Without telling him the real reason why. That he hadn't entirely seen the face of the officer who'd shot him, but he'd caught a glimpse of the man and the rank on his uniform. That he knew the two bullets that tore his flesh─one ripping through his leg and the other lodging in his chest─came from the rifle pointed at him by a tall, blond, blue-eyed Union Infantry second lieutenant. That now more than ever, he feared that officer was named Slim Sherman.

He simply couldn't take the chance of hearing that actually was the way of it.

"Jess," Jonesy continued to the Texan's back, with a firmer tone than before. "It's high time you stopped hidin' from this, boy. Time you faced the truth."

Jess's drew several slow, deep breaths. He slowly turned around.

"Yeah. I reckon so."

Jonesy nodded and headed back into the main room. Jess lumbered along behind him.