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EPILOGUE

'But every night come out these envoys of beauty, and light the universe with their admonishing smile.'

Ralph Waldo Emerson

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14

Mike Williams was sick and tired of being protected. He was also monumentally bored. He sat on the top of the corral gate, kicking his heels in frustration. Part of him wished he'd never confided his escape from kidnapping to his guardians, but he had been frightened and angry and uncertain whether the men would come back again. That alone broke his sleep and made him grateful Slim and Jess took the matter so seriously. At least he was going to get revenge on those who had tried to wrench him from his new-found home and safety. He trusted Slim and Jess absolutely to do it.

All the same, he had been confined to the relay station yard for ten days, not allowed to go out of sight of the house and those who were working to keep the place running in the absence of the partners. And they'd been gone so long! Where were they? Mike had no doubt Slim and Jess would trace the gang and bring them to justice. He just wished they'd get a move on and do it before he died of pent-up energy and frustration! With the complete faith of the young, Mike was sure his guardians could work miracles in short order.

When the miracle did come, it had him standing on the gate-post, hollering his lungs out: "Andy! Jonesy! They're comin'! It's Slim and Jess! They're back!"

Coming out of the barn, Andy Sherman heard the words with a distinct twinge of nostalgia. He'd said almost those exact words the very first time Jess had returned to the ranch with Slim. Jess's disappearances in pursuit of some link to his old life were becoming less frequent, but the knowledge that he had chosen to come back always filled Andy's heart with elation. He just needed to make sure that an over-excited Mike was not imagining things.

"You certain, Bear-cub?" He ran over to the fence and climbed up beside Mike.

"Look! See for y'self!" Mike pointed away up to the slope where the road to Cheyenne mounted an out-thrust ridge of the mountains.

Sure enough, Alamo and Traveller were unmistakable as they jogged eagerly downwards, the scent of home in their nostrils after a long, hard journey. Behind them rode two other horsemen and coming over the horizon, the boys saw three big wagons.

"D'you reckon they brought us something?" Mike asked hopefully.

Andy shook his head. "Not in wagon-loads, Mike. But they sure have brought us company." It had taken him only a split second to recognise the dark dapple-grey Arab that one of the strangers was riding. It was some time since their first visit, but they were no strangers to Andy. "It's Vin and Cal, Mike!"

"Who?" Mike was puzzled, not yet having learnt all the history which the little family of the relay station encompassed.

Andy did not stop to explain. "Come on! We'll need to get the stables ready and feed out for the horses and the wagon teams. Run and tell Jonesy they'll be needing food, then get back here, pronto, and give me a hand."

When the band of travellers finally drew into the yard, all was as ready as Andy and Mike could make it. Andy felt a flush of pride when he saw the approval of the state of the relay station in the eyes of the two men whose opinion he valued most. But it was quickly overwhelmed by the much greater pleasure of greeting everyone and welcoming them home. Not only were Cal and Vin visiting, but he spotted Chantal Picard seated alongside the driver of the first wagon. He was going to have to do a lot of introducing and explaining for Mike. Mike himself, however, was not bothered about anything except giving and receiving huge hugs from his guardians.

Jonesy came barrelling out of the house, his apron flapping and his obvious limp emphasising that keeping the place going during his boss's absence had not been without cost. His eyes lit up as he saw the visitors, but it also took him only a split second to notice and assess Jess's condition.

"Y'all welcome! Miss Chantal – Cal – Vin - all you folks. Step right inside and we'll find you some refreshments!" he invited hastily, but his doctoring instincts were in the ascendant, with Jess as their object: "You crazy Texan, get into the bunk-room before y' fall down! Cain't I let y' out of my sight without y' get y'self all tore up again!"

"Ain't time for me, Jonesy!" Jess responded with an affectionate grin as he slid carefully off Traveller.

"You mean y' just gonna pretend there ain't nothin' wrong, as usual?" the old cook and wanna-be medicine man snapped.

"No, I mean y've got no time at all to waste on me. Y've got to doctor and feed twenty patients!"

"Twenty?" Jonesy's eyes widened in dismay. "What twenty?"

"Children, Jonesy, in the wagons." Slim indicated the true nature of the cargo with a jerk of his head. Some children had been restored to their homes and more offered new homes and care in Cheyenne, but the remainder, as Jess had predicted, came home with their rescuers to Laramie. "Children – lost and found. Or have you forgotten what we set out to do?"

"Y' didn't say you were bringin' the results back with you!" Jonesy protested. "How'm I gonna find food and medicine for all so many?" But his mind was already working overtime to sort out what provisions he could utilise to serve them all.

"Don't worry, Jonesy!" Chantal gave him a comforting pat on the shoulder. "The cavalry is on the way."

And so they were. Round the bend from Laramie came Old Doc and Young Doc, closely followed by assorted friends, neighbours and citizens, bearing gifts of food and drink, children's clothing, bedding, bandages, and all manner of other useful things. All thanks to the modern miracle of the telegraph, which Carlin and his gang had so despised!

Mass baths in the creek, much bandaging and salving, the spreading of cloths laden with food on the banks of the stream and a great deal of comforting and hugging ensued. Finally, very much later that evening, the children had been safely bedded down in the barn, all except Andy, who was so much older and Mike, who couldn't really be sent to bed when his family had just been restored to him. Neighbours had departed and only the Sherman family, the two doctors and their guests remained sitting in the twilight on the porch.

Most of them, that is. Down at the corral, Jess and Chantal were leaning on the rails, as Jess indulged in a quiet cigarette, the final soothing touch after vast quantities of Jonesy's excellent coffee and more than his share of medicinal whiskey. It was the price he extracted when Jonesy finally managed to dragoon Jess into the privacy of the bunk-room, where he and the doctors had made a thorough job of patching him up once again. No matter how hard they tried, however, the three of them could not persuade him that he ought to be recuperating in bed. Looking down at the corral, none of them could find the heart to blame him.

Mike, however, was less tolerant. "What're they doin'?" he asked, sleepy and slightly disgruntled at not have Jess's full attention. He was pretty sure he liked the young woman with the shining hair and wicked sense of humour, because she was obviously used to being around boys and had an uninhibited sense of fun. But these attributes seemed subordinate to being exclusively around Jess right now.

"Counting stars, I expect," Andy said with the wisdom of longer acquaintance. "Don't know why they bother," he added, with the unsentimental disdain of the young. "There are so many, it's a hopeless task."

As if in agreement, the couple left the fence and wandered back to join the others on the porch. Jess flopped into his favourite rocking chair, which they had kindly left free for him, and Chantal sank down next to it, regardless of the hard boards.

"Mind your fingers," Slim told her automatically, just as he would have Andy or Mike. "He's dangerous when he starts rocking!"

"I'll bear that in mind," Chantal assured him gravely as she lent back against the chair. "But I reckon even Jess has run out of energy tonight."

There was no reply except for a slightly irritable grunt from the chair above.

"Yeah, Slim, I guess you're both too old and feeble to cope with loads of kids!" Andy quipped cheekily. "You're just fooling us about all the scouting and fighting."

There was a brief flurry of retribution from Slim, belying the assertion that he and Jess were getting decrepit. Once he had tickled his brother into submission, Slim settled back to enjoy the first peace and quiet he had had for what seemed like a very long time. When he finally got to bed, he was going to sleep and sleep and catch up on all those nights he'd spent on watch. Heck, he'd out-sleep even Jess!

Mike still felt there was something lacking in the whole adventure and had no hesitation in saying so: "Aw, Slim, y' didn't really finish the job properly, did y'?"

Both Slim and Jess sat up at this, uncertain how Mike could possibly find fault with the way they'd carried out their task.

"Why, Mike?" Slim asked perplexedly.

"Don't y' see?" Mike told him firmly. "Y' went all that way and did all that fightin' and winnin' and stuff, but y' didn't bring back a single diamond for us!"

Slim exchanged glances with Jess, remembering all the tracking and the spying and the planning, not to mention the fighting and putting paid to Bud Carlin's activities. In the end, the thing of real value which they had achieved was the young lives saved from darkness of the fortress. He thought how he might explain the difference to Mike.

"I don't think we really need the diamonds, Mike, especially if getting them causes so much suffering. If you think about it, children who are free and safe and happy - they're better than diamonds - they're like the stars, strong and shining and precious."

Someone said softly: "Amen to that!" and there was a murmur of agreement from those around him.

"Yeah," Jess murmured sleepily from the rocking chair, as his hand dropped to the bright head leaning against his knee. "Las estrellas del espiritu valiente - those stars are the only kind of stars really worth countin'."

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This story is partly aimed at drawing attention to the plight of child labourers in mines around the world today:

Time magazine, Aug. 20, 2012 (picture): An 11-year-old boy works at a makeshift mine in Icabarú, near Venezuela's border with Brazil. The child works on a team with five other children, only slightly older than him, and his father who said simply, "He has to work."

The Guardian, 19 January 2016: Children as young as seven are working in perilous conditions in the Democratic Republic of the Congo to mine cobalt that ends up in smartphones, cars and computers sold to millions across the world, by household brands including Apple, Microsoft and Vodafone, according to a new investigation by Amnesty International.

Further information: International Labour Organisation: Child Labour in Gold Mining, 2006

Could you mind diamonds in Wyoming?

The Wyoming Geological Survey believes that a billion-dollar diamond industry could develop in their state. Wyoming has comparable conditions to the Canadian diamond deposits, and hundreds of kimberlite pipes are believed to exist.

Acknowledgement: For all chapters: The great creative writing of the 'Laramie' series is respectfully acknowledged. My stories are purely for pleasure and are inspired by the talents of the original authors, producers and actors.