'A brother is a friend God gave you;

a friend is a brother your heart chose.'

Proverb

GONE

3

Despite his expressed wish to avoid people, late on the evening of the same day that he had been to town, Jess rode through the darkness to the ranch's nearest neighbours. The Travers lived high up in the next valley, on an old mine trail, and, since the track went nowhere else, they were not likely to be bothered by many visitors.

Dan Travers and his sons were sitting out on the porch, taking a well-earned rest after a hard day's hunting and trapping, when they heard the sound of several horses coming quietly up the valley. Dan reached over for his shotgun and motioned the boys to take covering positions. It was as well to leave nothing to chance.

Presently a single rider with two led horses drew to a halt in the yard. Dan went down to greet him.

"Jess! It's good to see you, but what in tarnation are you doin' here at this time of night?"

"Come to ask you a favour, Dan. I need somewhere to leave these two." Jess was leading Traveller and the second string he had been training, a rangy flea-bitten grey mustang. "Will you take them for me – keep 'em out of sight for a while? You know they're mine and I'll leave the papers with you."

"Sure, Jess, no problem." Dan had taken one look at his face and decided not to ask any questions about this unexpected request. He led the way over to the barn.

"I appreciate it, Dan – there ain't many I'd trust with them." Jess hesitated a moment, then went on. "I don't think it'll bring trouble on you or I wouldn't ask it, but keep 'em out of sight for the next few days, just in case, will y'?"

Just in case of what? Dan wanted to ask. He had his family to consider and parts of Jess's past were pretty violent. But he had also learnt that Jess was to be trusted absolutely, so he made no comment, just worked with him silently to settle the two horses comfortably and to stow their gear. He noted that this included not just saddle and bridles, but Jess's bedroll, saddle-bags and the other equipment he would need when travelling. What the heck was going on?

The unexpected arrival had not gone unnoticed in the lamp-lit cabin and, as they walked back across the yard, Dan could see his wife, Martha, standing anxiously on the porch. The boys would have told her who had come and Dan knew she would not want to let Jess go without assuring herself he was in one piece, which he very often wasn't.

"Come in and have some coffee," Dan told the younger man. "She'll give me hell if you don't!"

The fire, the lamplight, the warmth of the family, hit Jess like a physical blow. He almost backed out again, but, with a huge effort, controlled his impulse to run. He took off his hat and held out his hand to Martha. As he came into the light, Martha and Dan could see clearly for the first time that something was deeply wrong. Jess had never carried any spare weight, but the harshness of the previous days had left his body gaunt and the lean planes of his face shadowed and sharp, as if someone had taken a blade and carved the loss into him. The mobile expressions which normally chased themselves across his face were gone and in their place was a hard mask that gave away nothing. Even the brightness of his blue eyes was darkened and withdrawn.

Martha felt the hand in hers tremble for just a moment. It was cold and hard too, as if all the warmth had drained out of him. She remembered other times, the quick humour, laughter and fun, the generosity, loyalty and affection which lay alongside the deeply buried, bitter past that she could sense but had never asked about. Enough to know it existed. Now it seemed to be the only thing remaining.

"You're cold, come and sit down," she invited.

Jess shook his head. "I can't!" He turned away to lean against the mantelpiece, staring into the fire and forcing her to let go of him. "The news hasn't reached you, then?" They waited tensely until he was able to go on. "The ranch and relay station are going to be run by agents of the Sherman family until Andy's old enough to take them on. They're going to do a stock count. That's why I want my horses out of there, even though I legally own them and can prove it."

Husband and wife stared at him in shock, working out the implications of this. Dan gasped out "You mean –"

"I don't know what happened." Jess's voice was icily controlled. "I ain't been told. Andy's in St Louis. Jonesy's gone to join him for –"

He stopped abruptly.

Martha's instant instinct was to reach out and fold him in her arms, but Dan's hand on her shoulder restrained her. There are only so many things a man can stand and sometimes comfort is not one of them.

"Sally, get some coffee in here!" Martha called instead to her eldest daughter, who was in the kitchen. "Bring some whisky, too."

"No whiskey!" Jess's tone was adamant. They looked at him in surprise, since he'd never been known before to refuse this welcome addition. When Sally brought him the mug of coffee he took it from her without really looking up. He stood cradling the warmth in his hands and staring at the drink as if he'd never seen a mug of coffee before. When he lifted it to his lips, he drank it cautiously and without enjoyment, exactly as if it had been poison. He just managed to force most of it down, although it made his empty stomach want to heave.

"Thanks." He moved to place the mug carefully on the table in the middle of the room, still giving the impression that he was having to work out deliberately his every action. Martha guessed from this that he was in a state of sleepless exhaustion but she knew it would be no good saying anything. Jess had clearly set himself some task and would drive himself until he dropped in order to achieve it. Now he just picked up his hat, took the registration papers from his pocket, handed them to Dan and moved to the door. "Thanks for everything," he said again.

He would have gone without any further conversation, but Sally gave a half-sob and turned to her father. "Pa, may I speak with Jess for a moment?"

"No need to ask, girl!" Dan gave her a pat on the shoulder and an encouraging push towards the porch. "Never know'd you need permission before."

He exchanged another glance with Martha as Sally followed Jess out of the room. It was Slim who had most often found a pretext for visiting when Sally was home from her hospital work and neither of her parents found any reason to discourage him. The two families had been neighbours since the Shermans first claimed their land and Slim and Sally had virtually grown up together. Jess, the newcomer, had visited less often, sometimes by himself and teasingly suggesting that he was cutting Slim out, sometimes along with the young rancher, when their high spirits had set the place alight. Between them they had squired Sally to dances and socials, picnics and parties, whenever any of them had time from the hard-working routine of their daily lives. Martha was not certain where and how far Sally's heart was engaged, but she knew that Jess's news could break it.

"Jess!" He was already down the steps when Sally called after him. He turned slowly back towards her, suddenly realising she had not been party to the conversation with her parents and bracing himself for another wound he could not escape. "Jess, tell me the truth – is it Slim?"

"I'm sorry, Sally – I'm a coward – I should have told you directly, but I can't speak –" He broke off, turning his face away and looking down so that she could not see his expression. When he spoke again, he was obviously forcing every word out. "All I can tell you is that he's gone."

"Oh Jess, I'm sorry." Her voice trembled, faltered with the strain of holding back her tears. "I'm so sorry for you and for him."

Her unexpected sensitivity nearly broke Jess's resolve. Every ounce of his formidable will had to be summoned and fiercely employed to cope with this new challenge. But there was both worse and better to come.

Sally said "Jess, how is Andy? Thank God he's got you and Jonesy!"

"Andy's been taken away to his relatives in St Louis. Jonesy's gone too, but I don't think they'll let him –" Jess's painful explanation was interrupted by Sally's anguished cry: "How could they! How could they do that to him?"

She was crying in earnest now, overwhelmed with the thought of the young boy's loss and the pain he must be suffering, alone and among strangers. Jess simply stepped towards her and took her in his arms, holding her strongly, his fingers gently caressing her hair and face, until the storm of sobbing ceased.

Presently Sally gave a convulsive shudder that put an end to her tears. Jess released her at once, felt in his pocket and produced a somewhat battered handkerchief.

"Here, you need this." He gently mopped up the glistening drops and then took her chin between strong fingers, lifting her face so she looked him in the eyes.

"Sally, I can't make it any better than it is. But I promise you, when I've done what I have to do, I'll come back and tell you the truth of it."

Sally was stricken by the anguish she was reading from his mask-like expression and shadowed eyes, but she managed the ghost of a smile. "I know you will. Traveller makes a good hostage."

"Yeah. He's the only thing I've got left, so you take good care of him for me."

Then why are you leaving him? was the question she wanted to ask, but Jess had already mounted the spare horse he had ridden up from the ranch. He sat looking down at her for a moment, but neither of them had the strength to say goodbye. Sally stood staring after him long after he had ridden away into the darkness.