The Company of Strangers
Jantallian
9
The buggy could not equal Traveller's lively pace, even with his double burden. Armand and June arrived in Denver at least two hours behind Jess and Chantal. They were both thankful to be able, at last, to make for the comfort and security of the Central. But the hope that their precursors had done the same was not fulfilled, for they found no trace of them in the lobby.
Armand approached the desk clerk, explained who he was and asked if Chantal was in her room. The clerk looked both apologetic and irritated. "Monsieur Picard, I regret to inform you that your daughter has been arrested!"
"What?" Both Armand and June were dumbfounded.
"Yes, monsieur. She was in the company of that … " He struggled for the right French word and settled for: "that scélérat – the gunman, the one who killed poor Mrs Dark's husband!" The words "in front of my hotel!" hovered unspoken in the air. "And now -" a look of horror and professional apology transformed his face, "now, Mrs Dark, a further crime had been committed. Your poor husband's body has disappeared!" And the words 'from my hotel' were too much for him to utter.
"Oh, no!" June's hands flew to her mouth. She might have been stifling hysterics; on the other hand, it might just have been a hysterical desire to laugh. "I don't believe it! Come on, Armand!" She steered the baffled Frenchman out of the door and down the street, leaving the equally baffled clerk staring after them.
"I do apologise!" June was saying as she hurried Armand along. "I should have explained the whole story to you on the way into town and not let you get such a shock."
"Au contraire," Armand insisted politely. "I am used to shocks from Chantal. However, I have discovered that Jess is perfectly capable of dealing with anything she manages to drag him into."
In this instance, she appeared to have dragged him into prison – or maybe it was the other way round? When Armand and June entered the Marshall's office, they found the errant couple side by side, sharing a cell. Something of a clean-up had obviously taken place. Chantal was wearing an extremely pretty dress and a sling; her newly washed hair floated around her like a silver and gold cloud. Jess was now minus the blood-stains, bandages and accumulated grime from his various fights. In addition, he had found - or possibly been coerced into buying - a clean, undamaged shirt. How long it would stay that way was anyone's guess.
It would have been nice to have found them side by side in the perfect harmony which their improved appearance suggested. They were however, naturally, in the middle of a heated discussion.
"And how the hell was I supposed to know y' could handle a rifle already?"
"My father is a keen marksman. And I have four brothers. Naturally I made sure I was taught."
"So, next time, you tell me what y'can an' can't do! Not knowin' can waste a whole lotta energy, not to say ammunition!"
"But I have never shot anything alive," Chantal informed him. "So more lessons were necessary and …" she paused and looked up at him under lowered golden lashes, "muy agradable … et mucho más divertido."
It was fortunate that they were in a relatively public place, otherwise Chantal might have found herself on the receiving end of more than a ferocious scowl for this piece of teasing. Armand was struggling to conceal his amusement at the fulfilment of his expectations once again. Soon, however, he had to assume a more serious demeanour as he and June set about convincing the hostile, bewildered and not very experienced deputy, who had been left to hold the fort, that he should release the argumentative couple.
"I can let the girl – sorry, sir – your daughter go. She's only there because she insisted they were in this crime together. But that gunman stays right where he is. He's too dangerous. He was told to quit town and if he hasn't, he'll take what's coming to him."
"But there isn't any crime," June insisted. "My husband is alive and well and he'll be here any minute."
"That's as maybe, Mrs Dark. But we all saw this man shoot him."
"It was a fair fight," Jess growled. "You all saw that too!"
"Shut up, Harper! Nobody wants you or your opinion around here."
Jess gave a snort of disgust. "You ain't gonna make much of a deputy if y'can't even tell a fair fight when y' see one!"
"Shut up, Jess! You're just making it worse," June implored. She turned to the recalcitrant deputy once more. "Marshall Peterson knows all about this. Mr Picard is the businessman Jim was trying to trace. He was kidnapped by Emory Turner and my husband and Jess Harper rescued him."
"Is that so?" the deputy scratched his head thoughtfully. He was not particularly quick on the uptake.
"Indeed," Armand contributed. "I can vouch that Marshall Dark is certainly alive and that the man you've locked up in a cell is innocent of any crime."
"Is that so, sir?"
"Of course it is," Chantal chimed in from the cell. "You don't think I'd be sitting in here with him if there was any danger, do you, deputy!"
Fortunately the deputy did not hear Jess chuckle, "O yes, y'would!" He was finally persuaded to unlock the cell, with the proviso that they must all stay in town until the posse returned and the matter was finally cleared up. As it was, he would not let them leave until they had all written out and signed detailed statements about the events at Turner's mansion.
It seemed impossibly long until Chantal was finally able to hug the father whom she had come so far and endured so much to rescue. She had never been an obedient or docile daughter, but Armand loved her all the more for her fierce independence and determination. So often their relationship had been a battleground, but right now they found themselves swept into a deep and heartfelt embrace.
When Armand had thoroughly thanked his daughter, he kept an arm round her as he smiled across the table at the man who had engineered his rescue. From the first moment he had set eyes on Jess Harper in the Sherman Relay Station yard and, more still, observed his attitude to Chantal, he had felt that here was a young man after his own heart and mind. If you let Chantal walk all over you, she'd do just that!
Jess dropped his pen with a sigh of relief. Writing was far from his favourite activity and it was somewhat doubtful whether the deputy would ever be able to read the statement he had extracted from his uncooperative prisoner. Jess stretched and stood up and smiled back at Armand. "Thank you for vouching for me, my friend."
"Main non! Je tu remercie, mon ami! Je dois ma liberté et ma fille."
"Liberté, peut-être …" Jess was struggling a bit in French and switched to Spanish, which all three of them spoke fluently. "Sin embargo, tus hija tiene sus propias ideas acerca de la libertad!"
Chantal spread her arms, embracing the cell, and looked Jess in the eye with the most intense expression she could muster: "Y la libertad no significa sobria y respectable!"
"You said it." Jess returned the look with utter seriousness. For a heart-beat it seemed that the world stood still, then he reminded them with a grin: "And freedom includes bein' able to eat when y' need. I'm still starvin', even if the rest of you ain't!"
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It was early evening when Jim Dark finally made it back to the Marshall's Office in Denver, leaving the majority posse to escort Emory Turner and his gang into custody. He, Stan Peterson and the other deputy Marshalls had made good speed on the return journey. Jim was relieved to find that, in the meanwhile, both Jess and Armand had made statements, backed up by Chantal's testimony about finding her father imprisoned and June's explanation of the deception in which she had participated. Stan and his team were well satisfied and there was a sense of celebration at the successful end to a long and complicated investigation. This was, however, somewhat muted when Jim was handed a telegram for Jess which had just arrived at the Marshall's office.
For this reason, as well as because he devoutly hoped his wife was safe and resting, Jim made his way swiftly, if wearily, to the Central. He met the others outside as they were returning from a substantial and prolonged meal at an eating place not frequented before by any of the participants.
June was looking slightly dazed, as well she might. Dining with Jess when he was not being remote and unapproachable was something of an experience. He was still quiet, almost as reserved, letting Armand and Chantal carry the conversation, but he certainly was much more relaxed than he had been when this all began. Not being under the strain of avoiding killing Jim might have a lot to do with it, but the French influence contributed plenty too. Whatever the reason, Jess's appetite had returned with a vengeance and it was quite amazing how much food he could dispose of, given the opportunity. Perhaps it was fortuitous that the French were such good cooks?
The reunion of the Darks left no doubt about where June's real affections lay. Armand found himself blinking back an unexpected tear as he remembered Chantal's mother and all they had shared. His daughter was smiling, a thoughtful smile which recognised a genuine, loving partnership when she saw it. Jess remained inscrutable. As June had perceived, he understood very well that commitment meant passion, pain and taking risks for each other. He was just not prepared to offer her the same selfless admiration and devotion of which Slim was capable - but there were reasons for that.
Things might have become quite sentimental, had Jim not handed Jess the telegram. He tore it open and read it quickly. Then he sighed. "Just when I thought I was gonna get a couple of nights on the town!"
"Better not, if they end up like last time," Chantal reminded him.
"You tryin' t' keep me sober?"
"Heaven forbid!"
"What's urgent enough for a telegram?" Jim asked anxiously.
"Rustlin'," Jess replied succinctly. "Slim's hard pressed but he's got a respect for the law won't let him interfere with your operations. This is from Mort Cory - reckons I should be gettin' home before Slim tries to sort it out himself, busted ankle an'all."
"You'll never make it in time if you ride back," Jim pointed out.
"Yeah, guess I'll have to see if I can get Trav on to a train, at least as far as Cheyenne. He don't take kindly to bein' shut up anywhere he can't get out of."
Chantal stifled a giggle. As with the man, so with the horse!
Her mirth was quickly suppressed as Jess turned and presented Jim to her: "And by the way, Mademoiselle Picard - ici est Jim Dark, qui est bien vivant!" He did not actually say 'now will you believe me!' but his tone certainly implied it.
Chantal took Jim's hand and fluttered her eyelashes appealingly: "I don't know how to thank you enough for rescuing my father."
"Y'can shake his hand!" Jess suggested before she got any other ideas. He shook Jim's hand vigorously himself, and then Armand's. The Frenchman, however, has having none of this and pulled the young Texan into a fervent and entirely Gallic embrace: "Jusqu'à la prochaine fois, mon ami!"
"But I hope you ain't gonna get kidnapped next time, Armand!" Jess told him severely. "Seems to be somethin' of a habit in your family."
"Mais nous avons donc été sauvé et protégé par toi, Jess," Armand replied with a smile. "That is never to be underestimated!"
"Yeah, well, if there is a next time …" Jess's attention switched entirely, and with considerable force, to Chantal, "just let me know you're needin' help, will y'?"
"Si. Agito mis brazos, grito!" She did not bother to demonstrate. "Siempre hago!"
Jess shook his head. "No, y' don't! But there ain't time to argue now. I've gotta to get Trav and catch a train, so come on!" He seized her by the elbow and they both disappeared abruptly in the direction of the hotel stables.
Assuming that Jess did actually intend to say goodbye before he left, everyone else drifted out through the doors and waited on the side-walk. Presently their patience was rewarded and Jess, Chantal and the faithful mount appeared from an alleyway into the main street. Their friends were too far away to catch the tail end of a conversation between the pair which went some way to explaining the ensuing action. "I told y' how things stand and I ain't changed my mind!" Jess was growling at Chantal. "But I've got a due to collect for bein' forced to wear a white shirt just to go out to supper!" The expression on his face nearly reduced Chantal to giggles again.
Jess led Traveller up to the hotel hitching rail and told him to stand. Chantal demurely mounted the steps and re-joined her father.
Sensing that the moment of parting had really arrived, June moved away from her husband's side and laid a hand on Jess's arm as she smiled up at him. "I was so afraid that Turner would decide Jim was too much of a danger and try to eliminate him. I don't know how to thank you enough for making it look that way and for not actually killing him!"
A distinct gleam came into Jess's eyes and he grinned wickedly. "Yes, y'do. Same as last time!" He raised an eyebrow enquiringly towards Jim. "Providin', of course, I ain't gonna get called out again?"
Jim grinned back and shook his head.
June tried to glare severely at the pair of them, but found herself being firmly taken by the arms and kissed thoroughly and at length. She wondered breathlessly whether Chantal was going to call her out on the grounds that 'es suficiente', but when she was able to look again, the French girl appeared to be stifling another fit of merriment.
This did not disconcert Jess in the slightest. Presumably he figured that, if she could laugh, she was now seeing things from a rather different perspective. He just released June and handed her politely back to Jim. Then he moved swiftly up the steps and neatly detached Chantal from her father's side in much the same way he would have cut out a calf from a herd.
Armand sighed. He had a romantic heart and also a strong desire for a quiet life. No such thing seemed to occur to Jess and Chantal. The pair of them stood in the middle of the side-walk, locked eyes, and engaged in a rapid-fire exchange in Spanish, which sounded as if co-operation, or any other kind of harmony, had never occurred to them. Neither of them took the slightest notice of their audience or the steady stream of mystified passers-by.
Presently Jess's voice fell to a rumbling growl which brooked no opposition despite Chantal's spirited attempts at just that. Armand, the only one who understood what was going on, had been politely trying not to listen. Nonetheless the words 'boots' and 'hat' and 'no fancy clothing' seemed to feature prominently. Then silence fell unexpectedly.
Into it, Jess said with inexorable determination: "El equipo adecuado. La próxima vez. ¿Tú entiendes?"
Chantal nodded vigorously and suggested: "And maybe we could avoid cliffs too?"
"Yeah," Jess replied softly and fervently. "Vamos a contar estrellas en vez."
Chantal smiled in agreement. But as he ran down the steps to mount Traveller once more, she called: "Jess!"
"Yeah?"
"When you catch up with those rustlers, just remember your disapproving grandchildren, will you, Temerario?"
Jess laughed. "You wouldn't want me to get bored now, would y', PT?"
He hopped on to Traveller, nudged him into a swivel turn, and waved briefly to them over his shoulder as man and horse headed in the direction of the railway station, moving at a steady, mile-eating lope, exactly the way they had arrived in Denver.
Armand looked sideways at his daughter, a quizzical expression on his face. By some strange quirk of time and fate, he seemed to be quoting as he enquired: "Some unfinished business?"
Chantal laughed too. "Nothing," she replied, "that won't improve with keeping."
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Translations:
Muy agradable … et mucho más divertido. Very pleasant … and much more entertaining.
Je tu remercie, mon ami! Je dois ma liberté et ma fille. Thank you, my friend. I have my freedom and my daughter.
Sin embargo, tus hija tiene sus propias ideas acerca de la libertad. However, your daughter has her own ideas about freedom.
Y la libertad no significa sobria y respectable. And freedom does not mean being sober and respectable.
Jusqu'à la prochaine fois, mon ami! Until next time, my friend.
Mais nous avons donc été sauvé et protégé par toi But so we have been rescued and protected by you
Agito mis brazos, grito. Wave my arms, shout.
El equipo adecuado. La próxima vez. ¿Tú entiendes? The right equipment. Next time. Understand?
Vamos a contar estrellas en vez. Let's count stars instead.
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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.
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Reading order for the stories relating to Jess's encounters with Chantal: A List and Three Black Eyes, The Company of Strangers, Bearing Gifts, The Morning After.
Apologies to the topography of Denver and its surroundings!