"The ache for home lives in all of us,

the safe place where we can go as we are

and not be questioned."

Maya Angelou

RETURN

16

It was much later the next day that Slim and Andy were able to give statements concerning their imprisonment and treatment. Then, under Jonesy's vigilant care, they were able to make their way home slowly and in the best comfort which could be procured by the combined influences of Frobisher and Warwick.

Jess did not go with them. The legal process and the involvement of the Ranulfhjar required his continued presence in St. Louis for at least another week. Finally, however, the whole sordid and complicated business was documented with evidence sufficient for a trial to be brought in the near future. On the evening when they were at last free of it, Colonel Frobisher admitted to his house, in ones and twos, those who had been instrumental in the break-up of the gang. As they gathered in his study, Eleanor welcomed them into the lamp-lit tranquillity and the butler dispensed well-earned glasses of champagne.

Vin stood gazing into the fire as he gathered his thoughts, before he said quietly to the Colonel, "Jess asked me to tell you, sir - you are under no further obligation to him."

"We are all under an obligation!" the Colonel responded. "All of us, from the US Government to that unfortunate young man, Matthew Sherman."

"I don't think Jess would see it that way," Vin commented. He exchanged a glance with Cal, who was looking uncharacteristically serious. Cal added, "As he sees it, he is obliged to you and especially to Miss Eleanor."

Eleanor blushed and glanced around the room. Everyone else had arrived. Where was Jess? The party was, after all, in his honour. The truth was quick to dawn on her. "He's gone, hasn't he?"

Vin pulled out the silver cigar case and thoughtfully lit a cigar. When he had done so, he just nodded. It was Cal who drew her gently aside and said softly, "He's gone where he belongs. He couldn't bear to stay here any longer."

"That damned woman!" Eleanor was angry beyond the restraints of convention. "She fools men into trusting her and when she's got their respect, she casts them aside!"

"No, you're wrong," Cal said even more softly, "There was only one woman in this whole affair who he really trusted and respected – and I'm looking at her now."

Eleanor wanted to retort that it was not respect or even trust she wanted, but, face to face with this man who was so like and so unlike Jess, she became conscious that this was an immature response and uncalled for. She was suddenly aware of his compassion and calm which were just as attractive, in their own way, as the turbulent experiences she had shared with Jess. She drew a deep breath and smiled and said, "Thank you. He's lucky to have had you with him."

Cal's eyes twinkled just a little as he murmured, "Ain't the first time and I guess it won't be the last I get to haul my little cousin out of trouble." Then his face became more serious as he reminded her, "It cost Jess so much to find and free the ones he cares about. He's gone because he just needs to know they are all safely home."

Eleanor nodded and raised her glass. "Let's drink to that."

The clink of glasses drifted out into the night. If it reached the darkened mansion a little way down the avenue and the ears of the woman now presiding in solitary and bitter splendour, only the shadows could tell.

# # # # # # #

The valley where the Travers lived was already beginning to be barred with darkness and light as the trees cast their long shadows across it. Sally came out of the cabin, a handful of chopped carrots and apples in her pocket, and wandered over to the paddock. Traveller was close to the gate, waiting for her to come and make much of him, as she had done every evening, knowing it was Jess's habit to spend some quiet moments like this with his mount at the end of each day. The flea-bitten grey mustang, Smoke, came pushing through the other horses, looking for his share too.

Sally ducked between the rails and felt in her pocket. Both horses were too well mannered to nudge her, but she could feel their impatience as they shifted from hoof to hoof. Soft lips nuzzled her palm as she shared out the treats, making sure not to spoil Traveller, even though he was the favourite: actions like that ruined a lot of training and, worse, the crucial relationship between the working pair.

Now the big bay leaned his head against her and she rubbed the small star between his eyes. He was dusty from a good roll that morning and she was wondering whether to take him into the barn for a brush-down, when he suddenly jerked away from her and flung up his head. His ears were pricked so sharply they almost touched, his eyes wide and his head snaking from side to side as he stared down the valley to the track leading up from the main Cheyenne-Laramie road. Surprised, Sally followed his gaze, but could see nothing except the lengthening shadows. She frowned and slipped hastily between the rails as Traveller, forgetting his manners for once, turned on his haunches and went bounding up the paddock, away from the fence.

The horse snorted as he spun round again, neatly and precisely, then broke into gallop, heading straight towards the paddock gate. Before Sally had the presence of mind to open it - for Traveller was certainly not going to stop - the bay had collected his pace, judged the distance and jumped high and clear, scarcely faltering as he landed.

"Trav!" Sally yelled, but her cry was drowned by a frantic neigh from the horse, who was speeding down the track as if his life depended on it.

"It can't be!" Sally breathed to herself, her heart pounding and her mind leaping frantically from one possibility to the other. But, in truth, she knew only one reason why Traveller would behave like this.

From out of the shadows came a dark figure on a black horse. They halted as the bay sped towards them and the black flung up his head and uttered a warning challenge. The rider vaulted off, dropping the black's reins so that he would stay where he was, and began to sprint up the track towards the loose horse. Sally held her breath, sure he must be mown down, but, of course, no such thing happened. Traveller dug his hooves in and lowered his head as he slid to a spectacular halt in less than ten feet. The rider flung both arms round the horse's neck and buried his face in the dusty mane. They stood motionless for a long moment, then the man released his hold and rubbed the horse's star just as Sally had. Traveller made a long, shuddering whickering sound and nudged the man so hard that he nearly lost his footing.

"Give over, you old fool!" Sally recognised the voice, but there was something different, almost as if it was coming from a great distance, from some place where it was terribly cold. But the distance was not a literal one, because the rider turned back to collect the black and walked both horses up towards the cabin.

"Jess!" Unlike Traveller, Sally's emotions rooted her to the spot as he approached. "I can't believe you're back!"

The sound of the upheaval had penetrated into the cabin itself, bringing Martha and Dan hurrying outside, with Dan automatically snagging up his rifle as he went. They halted on the porch, realising at once it was a celebration they had heard, not an attack. The two horses stood in the yard. So did the two humans. The horses kept a wary distance from each other. So did the humans.

Dan put a hand on Martha's arm, restraining her once more from giving Jess that hug she so badly wanted to. This was unnecessary, because she had checked of her own accord and was watching the conversation between the two young people carefully. Jess was obviously telling Sally something in a curt, clipped style, accompanied by one or two brief gestures. Then she asked a question and he nodded. At this Sally flung herself across the distance between them and into his arms. A prolonged embrace seemed to be taking place.

Dan looked quizzically at his wife, whose hand had gone to her lips in shock. "Well, either he's proposed to her –" he grinned, "or it's some kind of real good news, only I can't figure what!"

"It can't be …" Martha breathed. "It can't be a miracle."

But it was. A moment later, Sally came flying up to the porch, her eyes blazing and glistening with tears at the same time and a smile of pure happiness transforming her face, as she shed in one joyous moment all the strain and grief she had been showing over the last few weeks.

"He's alive!" she yelled to her parents. "Slim's not dead! He's alive!"

"That settles which one it is, then," Dan remarked thoughtfully as she flung herself into their arms too. There were more hugs and tears as she relayed the news to her brothers and the little ones who had come tumbling out of barn and cabin at her excited cries.

The news was a total surprise to all of them. They had heard nothing of Slim and Andy's return to the relay station. Living as they did a good distance up the mountain and away from any main routes, they did not get news from passing travellers. Dan had also forbidden Sally to go in quest of information from the relay station itself or from Laramie, for he guessed she would hear nothing but rumour which would tear her heart apart. So, as Jess had promised, it was he who came to tell them what had happened – although he did not amplify the brief explanation he had initially given Sally. The news was enough and he presumably figured Slim might want to fill in the details himself.

If Sally was transformed, so was Jess, but not in the way they might have expected, given the good news he had brought. Dan strolled down to where he was again leaning against Traveller, like someone floundering in a quicksand who has finally grasped hold of a reliable rock. "Glad you're back," Dan smiled at him and then said shrewdly, "But you'll be wantin' to make the relay station before midnight! Let's get your gear together."

Jess just nodded and hitched the black stallion to the paddock rail. Everything was still stowed neatly in the barn and it took only a few minutes to prepare Smoke and Traveller. The grey was tethered a suitable distance from the black, but Jess never tied Traveller anywhere and seeing how closely the horse stuck to his owner, Dan laughed and asked: "Can you persuade that animal of yours to stay put a while? You know y' won't escape without comin' in, don't y'?"

Without seeming to, he had been taking stock of the condition of the young man in front of him. Last time he had seen Jess he had feared he was on the verge of a serious breakdown, although he would never have made his opinion known. Sometimes terrible pain is simply something that a man has to live through. So it appeared now.

Jess just said to his old companion, "C'mon, Trav." Together the two men and the horse came up to the cabin, where Jess told Traveller to wait as the foot of the steps, otherwise, Dan was convinced, the faithful steed would have followed him inside.

The fire, the lamplight, the warmth of the family and the joyful sense of celebration 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, as he came into the light, Martha and Dan could see clearly the difference in his physical appearance. To start with, he was wearing well-tailored, formal town clothes and a pale grey hat. Only the dust of the trail seemed to belong to the Jess they knew. He looked uncannily like someone else, although the real blue of his eyes was beginning to show through the belladonna-induced darkness. The moustache and hair-style made such a difference, accentuating the hard lines of his face, and there was still the mask-like control with which he was ruling his feelings. He gave every appearance of continuing to be mentally and physically strung up to meet some impending danger. The only encouraging thing about him was that he did seem to have been properly fed during his absence.

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, without waiting for any addition of whiskey, even though it was a celebration. Dan tried to get him to have a glass, but he just shook his head silently.

"Cat got your tongue?" Dan asked jokingly.

Jess thought for a minute. "Seems that way. Haven't been talking too much lately." His tone was flat and accentless - he sounded bewildered, as if he was not sure even how to speak any more. Dan and Martha exchanged glances, remembering the brief, economic way he had first broken the news to Sally. Now he was leaning against the mantelpiece as he had done that other night when he had trusted them with Traveller. He was watching the celebrations thoughtfully but making no contribution to them. Presently he moved to place the mug carefully, deliberately, on the table in the middle of the room, as if this action had some finality for him.

Then he picked up his hat, took the registration papers which Dan returned to him, put them in his pocket and moved to the door. It seemed that he would just disappear into the night, but at the last minute he turned and said: "Give us a week or so to get things back to normal …" The sentence hung unfinished and the invitation to visit unspoken. He gulped as if speaking further might choke him, but finally managed to: "Thanks for everything. I couldn't have done anything without knowing you were here, behind me …"

They all poured out of the door after him, raising a surprised snort from Traveller, who was still standing patiently at the bottom of the steps. As Jess descended, Martha put her arm round her daughter and whispered in her ear: "Let him be. He knows how you feel." Dan looked at the pair of them shrewdly and suggested, "Time you were chasin' the little 'uns to bed, Sally."

So it was Martha who walked with Jess back down to the corral to collect the other two horses. She guessed that, having driven himself without mercy until he had completed the task he had set himself, he was still in a state of exhaustion and grief. She could feel the unstaunched wound to his spirit, as if he was actually bleeding in front of her. The jostling horses screened them from the view of those on the porch as she reached out and folded him in her arms. "Jess, there'll be a time to talk, to say what you need to say. Come back then."

A great, heaving sigh shuddered through his body and his head drooped to rest on her shoulder. He said simply, "I've been living a lie. Slim hates lies."

"Oh my dear!" Martha's strong arms drew him close into the security of understanding.

His voice sounded as though it was being cut from his throat as he choked on the whispered words: "I've done terrible -"

"Hush!" Martha's fingers pressed against his lips. "You've only done what you had to do. No-one can doubt that."

"But Slim …"

"You must trust each other. Don't be afraid to trust." She put her hand under his chin, making him lift his head, and softly kissed him on the forehead as she had done the very first time they met. "Now, go home and behave yourself according!"

Jess moved gently away and stood gazing down at her for a few seconds. As he had before, he lifted her work-worn hands to his lips and murmured, "An angel!"

When he had mounted and ridden away down the valley into the gathering dusk, Martha re-joined Dan on the porch. Her husband looked down at her with a twinkle in his eye and said, "If I didn't trust you, I'd be after that young man with a horse-whip!" Then, knowing how much pain she was carrying, he added, "He'll come back when he's good and ready. He needs you just like he was one of our own."

"If I said the right thing …" Martha looked hopeful as she tucked her arm into her husband's and together they went in to join their family. "But right now, he just needs to be home."

# # # # # # #

When Jess finally reached the relay station, it was full night. With three horses, he was forced to take the main road, rather than cutting across the ridge between the Travers' valley and the Sherman ranch, and this took longer. As he came over the last rise before the dip into the yard, he halted and sat still on Traveller, looking down as he had once – it seemed so long ago now – when he knew nothing about the people or the place and was only intent on his own personal quest over the betrayal of friendship. Betrayal. He shivered as if the wings of a cold shadow had swept close over him.

It was a cloudy night and there were pools of darkness under the great oak tree and around the barn and the house itself. The yard was quiet and the whole place was shut down and asleep. There were no lights at the windows and only a faint wisp of smoke from the chimney, which suggested that the stove had been banked down for the night.

Jess rode in silently as his expertise and control of the horses enabled him to do. The barn was not locked and, even without a light, he moved with the ease of long familiarity. He found three empty stalls and settled the horses, before picking up his meagre luggage and walking with Indian stealth over to the house, almost as if he was attacking rather than returning. In the centre of the yard, memory froze him: the dogs had not yet been replaced. Then he moved on again, a shadow within the shadows, until he stood on the porch.

He felt in his pocket for the key. The door would almost certainly be locked. He had no wish to disturb them in the bunkroom, but would bed down on the living room couch for the night.

It was an utterly unexpected shock to find that his key would not open the door.

He felt as if someone had just stabbed him in the heart and once more his whole being convulsed in a shudder of agony. He was locked out – rejected - set adrift once more. The refusal of the key to turn in the lock was the physical manifestation of his worst fear.