Chapter 4: DEAR COUSIN
Tuesday, September 30th (at the buttcrack of dawn)... Because Jess'd been shouldering most all of the previous days' physical activities, and because it was Sunday (at least Slim thought it was... he'd lost track), Slim elected to let Jess sleep in for a change. As always, Daisy was already fluttering around preparing breakfast for her 'boys'.
How can anyone to be that bright-eyed, cheerful and energetic so early in the morning—much less a seventy-six-year-old woman? It's unnatural…
Around the corner and out of sight in the kitchen, Daisy couldn't possibly have seen him... or heard him stealthily exiting the bedroom. Yet—in the time it took him to tiptoe across the parlor—his coffee was already on the table.
"Good morning, Slim," Daisy sang out. "Let me see that knee."
Clad only in the short drawers he'd slept in, Slim had no excuse to deter the woman. The knee was still swollen and accompanied by some fairly impressive bruises. Nurse Daisy poked and prodded and tutted in dismay.
"After breakfast I want you to park yourself in the rocker with that leg up on the ottoman. I'll have Jess fetch some ice, and some liniment from the barn."
Resistance was futile, as Slim and the others well knew. Daisy always got her way.
"I'm letting Jess sleep in. He deserves it, the way he's been pushing himself."
"As well you should. That young man's loyalty to you is beyond measure. He'd walk through fire for you."
"Oh... I don't question his loyalty, Daisy. I just don't want to burden him with more responsibility than he's able to handle."
"For heaven's sake. He's got a brain, hasn't he? Quite a good one, at that. When has he ever let you down?"
Many, many times... in the beginning—before your time here. But we were just getting to know each other then. You have no idea how different the Jess you know is from the firebrand that blew in here two years ago…
Slim didn't articulate his thoughts to the woman who was convinced Jess walked on water. For that matter, she as well seemed to regard Slim himself as a candidate for sainthood. Not necessarily a comfortable perch for either of them... up there on a pedestal where one constantly had to maintain an image as a paragon of virtue. Daisy Cooper was no fool but she had a blind spot where her 'boys' were concerned.
"Should I wake up Mike?" Slim suddenly thought to ask. He'd forgot the boy had spent the night in the same room as himself and Jess. "Are there enough eggs and milk?"
"Let the child sleep. The situation's under control. Orrie and that new boy are out there right now, taking care of those chores."
"What? Already?" Slim was surprised. Jay Dee hadn't struck him as the farming type.
"Oh yes... they were up same time as me. Should be back any minute now. I'll go ahead and get the biscuits started. More coffee?"
"Yes, please..."
In the byre at the back of the barn, Orrie leaned his chin on arms folded across the top slat of the partition, watching Jay Dee expertly squirt milk into a pail while Deecy stood obediently foursquare.
"How'd you get her to do that?"
"Do what?" The reply was muffled as Jay Dee had the side of his face pressed against the Jersey's flank. His hair exactly matched her fawn-colored hide.
"Stand still and let down. There's only a handful of people that cow likes enough to do that without a fuss."
"I get along with most animals. Who're the ones she likes?"
"Mike, for one, and Slim's younger brother Andy who's away at school in St. Louis. Miss Daisy... most of the time but not always. Everybody else she just tolerates because they're not afraid of her and she knows it."
"Yeah? And who might they be?"
"Aside from Slim and Jess and myself, there's Jonesy and Miss Sally. Jonesy was like a surrogate uncle. He retired and got married and moved to St. Louis, about a year before Miss Daisy came to work. Miss Sally was Slim's widow lady friend until she fell in love with someone else and moved away. She owned the livery stable and blacksmith business. My father's buying it from her on time."
"I believe I recall my Dad talking about Sally... real tall... built like a brick... er... outhouse?"
"That would be her," Orrie grinned. "She was something else. I always liked her. She treated my family like we were her own."
"How does Jess fit in here? My father stayed here a couple of weeks a while back, but he never learned much about Jess' background other than he used to be a gunfighter."
"That's kind of a long involved story. Later, I'll tell you what I know—maybe this afternoon when he's not around."
"Okay. But answer me this... is he apt to get violent if he's upset?"
"I've heard stories..." Orrie said slowly. "I've never personally been around him when he's angry but I know he's killed quite a few people."
"Remind me to not make him angry," Jay Dee muttered.
The two were already heading back to the house with their buckets of milk and basket of eggs when Daisy stepped out on the front porch.
"Get a move on, boys... I need those eggs."
Jess pushed back from the table, ready to jump on those morning barn chores. First order of business: feed the stalled horses, the bull and the orphan calves. Slim held up a hand for attention.
"Before you get started, there's something we need to get out of the way first."
"Yeah... what's that?"
"Remember those Overland drivers that stayed here... the ones that looked like you and thought you all might be related?"
"Yeah... the two Bobs... PlumbBob Brackett and BobCat..." Realization dawned and Jess turned to stare at Jay Dee. "BobCat Kelly?"
Jay Dee looked both sheepish and nervous. "My father. You're the reason I'm here. I've got some messages for you."
Jess fixed a grim look at Slim. "You knew about this?"
"Just since yesterday. I thought it best to wait until the cattle business was tied up before bringing it up."
"What gives you the right to decide what's best?"
"Look... Jess. Simmer down. I have no idea if the news this kid's brought you is good or bad. I didn't want you to be distracted... or worried. I made the call. If I was wrong, I apologize. It's not his fault. I asked him to wait, is that all right?"
"No. It's not... but we'll talk about it later."
"Fair enough. Jay Dee... you wanna get those papers now?"
Retrieved from his saddlebags in the bedroom, the 'papers' turned out to be a large manila envelope, securely fastened with knotted twine and sealed with wax, and a smaller sealed postal-sized envelope. Jay Dee gently placed both on the table in front of Jess and backed away.
"Do you know what's in here?" Jess demanded, scowling.
"No, sir. I don't. All I know is the small one's a letter from my mother. She told me to tell you to please read that one first."
Jess stared at the envelope without touching it. Daisy silently arose from the table and brought a paring knife to use as an opener.
"Slim, Orrie, Mike... you, too, Jay Dee. Perhaps we should leave Jess to read his correspondence in private..."
"Oh... sure... right..." Forgetting he was supposed to be disabled, Slim stood up hastily and beckoned to the other two. "Come on. We can get started on the barn."
"Not so fast, Slim," Daisy commanded. "Those three can go to the barn. You and I are going to the front porch where you are going to sit."
Left alone at the table, Jess continued looking at the envelope. Wanting to know what revelations it held... and afraid to find out. He couldn't put it off forever. Carefully slitting it open, he withdrew two carefully folded sheets written in an arrow-straight elegantly-rendered hand...
"Dear Cousin Jess,
You don't know me from Adam's housecat, but we are indeed cousins by marriage. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Janette Kathryn Wheeler Kelly, wife to Robert Allan Kelly, known to you as 'Bobcat'. The courier is our eldest son, Joseph Daniel ('Jay Dee') Kelly. The information you are about to receive has been researched extensively by those of our far-flung family interested in genealogy (including myself) and independently verified by the Pinkerton National Detective Agency.
I have been advised you know very little of your antecedents on your mother's side. Therefore, I will attempt to provide a brief outline of your line of descent from your common ancestress, Cora Tanner.
Coraline Jean Watson was born in 1773 in Pennsylvania. At the age of sixteen she married James Walter Tanner and they emigrated west to Oregon Territory, later relocating to Washington Territory. Jim Tanner went into the timber business and acquired great wealth—becoming, in fact, one of Seattle's original 'lumber barons.'
Jim and Cora Jean produced twelve daughters over a twenty-five-year span. The older girls were married and gone before the younger ones were even born. Nine of these children are still living.
Cora Jean is not the most congenial or maternal of individuals, to put it bluntly. Most of the children chose not to maintain relations with the family once they had escaped their mother's oversight through marriage. Approaching her centennial year and for reasons which shall be disclosed later in this missive, Cora Jean undertook to track down those errant daughters and their children. I won't bore you with the names and particulars of the twelve daughters other than to note the surnames of their spouses: Brackett, Darrah, Duncan, Harman, Kirby, Poke, Martin, Reed, Rudd, Smith, Wallace and Wheeler. You are first and second cousin to several dozens of their offspring, including my husband Robert.
His grandmother, Evelyn Melinda Tanner, was Cora Jean's first-born. Your grandmother, Martha Eugenie Tanner, was fourth-born. Having eloped with a gambler from New Orleans by the name of Roger Rudd, Martha effectively disappeared from the scene until fairly recently. Roger and Martha are long deceased. Of their two daughters, Mary Jane married a Texan named Cooper and Elizabeth Anne married a Virginian named Harper—John Lawrence Harper, your father. Of John and Elizabeth's seven children, you are the only confirmed survivor. We needn't delve into that sad affair. Military records confirm the death of your brother, Lieutenant Jonathan Curtis Harper, CSA, at the Battle of Antietam, September 1862. Lieutenant Harper is listed as having been unmarried.
Where we (and the Pinkerton Agency) have run into a dead end is that we/they have been unable to confirm the existence or whereabouts of your eldest brother, Carlton James Harper. Military records reflect the service of a Captain Carlton J. Harper, 1st Florida Infantry Regiment, CSA, whose primary residence was given as Boggy, a settlement at Boggy Bayou on the Choctawhatchee Bay in the panhandle region of Florida. Captain Harper was captured at the Battle of Mobile Bay in August 1864 and subsequently interned for eighteen months at Fort Pickens, from which he was (presumably) repatriated as his name does not appear among records of prisoner of war deaths.
According to Lloyd Singletary, lead agent in the Pinkerton investigation, there is sufficient evidence to suggest that Carlton Harper may still be alive and living in the surrounds of said bay or possibly on Santa Rosa Island. The area is sparsely populated, with uncounted swamps, bayous and barrier islands among which an individual could easily lose himself and thus evade future government interference.
It has been confirmed that, at the time of his enlistment, Captain Harper was married and the father of a female child (wife certified deceased). The Pinkerton agents were unable to ascertain if this child yet lives, or her whereabouts.
There is some confusion as to the status of your sister, Francine Marie (spouse Gilbert Edward Brady confirmed deceased; no issue from this union). Conflicting reports list her as having expired during an epidemic of the yellow fever. Others claim her as missing, whereabouts unknown. There is no certified death on record.
I have no idea if this is at all of interest to you. No doubt the following will be, however.
Cora Jean Tanner was a misandrist of the first order—that is, she despised men. She blamed men for every unhappiness she had ever experienced in her entire miserable life. Therefore, she directed that her entire fortune be divided equally among all her female descendants. But first, they had to be found. Which is where the family genealogists and the Pinkertons come in. The firm of Turner Metcalfe & McCutcheon, Estate Attorneys, LLP, was engaged to formalize the will and oversee distribution of proceeds when the time came.
On one point Cora Jean finally relented, on the advice of her attorneys, and that is: If it can be proven that there are no surviving females in any given line of descent, then the legacy share shall be awarded to the youngest male descendant. This codicil will no doubt be contested by all the other male descendants but Turner et al are of the opinion the will is unbreakable as it stands.
Cora Jean departed this earthly plane on 18 September 1873, on the eve of her centennial birthday. I regret to admit she will not be greatly missed.
Which brings me to the contents of the package accompanying this correspondence. In it you will find an assortment of legal instruments explaining the terms of the will and your portion of the legacy, should it devolve to you. This bequest is contingent on the following critical factors: proof of the continued existence of your sister and/or your brother's female heir, in which case the legacy will be divided between them—or proof of their deaths, in which case you shall become the sole legatee.
These portions are to be held in trust until the contingencies are met or until seven years have elapsed since the last confirmed sightings of your sister and/or your niece, at which time they shall be declared deceased and funds disbursed.
Cousin, where you take this from here is your business. Should you decide to continue the search for your siblings based on this information, know that our best wishes and hopes for success go with you.
Respectfully yours, Jan Kelly
Jess was stunned, shocked into incredulity. Never in his wildest dreams had he ever anticipated an inheritance from any source. That his mother—beaten-down, desperate, hopeless drudge—had sprung from wealth and privilege was completely beyond his comprehension. Unthinkable. Unimaginable. How could she have fallen so low? Even more unbelievable... that he might not be the only living member of his immediate family.
His mouth had gone dry, but when he tried to pick up his cup for a swig of coffee, his trembling hands wouldn't permit it. His heart was racing. It felt like his head was going to explode. He didn't know how long he'd been sitting there until he became aware of Slim's presence, and a strong hand gripping his shoulder. Daisy had seated herself catty-corner from him and put her small warm hands over his.
"Jess? You all right?" Slim was inquiring softly.
Daisy, of course, immediately surmised—correctly—that he'd received earth-shattering news. "Whatever it is, dear... we're here for you."
Relaxing his hold, Slim came around to the other side of the table and sat down heavily. More than once he'd observed his best friend in the throes of a crisis of conscience—all the visual cues were there. More than once Slim'd had to accept that there were occasions when Jess' personal allegiance to him was transcended by a greater need.
Jess found he couldn't speak. Literally struck dumb. Silently he slid the sheets toward Slim.
"I think he wants you to read it, Slim," Daisy murmured.
"Is that what you want, Jess?"
The query was acknowledged with a faint nod. Slim read, trying desperately to contain any expression of dismay or anything that might indicate he had any prior knowledge of an inheritance. "Would you like Daisy to read this as well?"
Again the nod. Slim passed the letter over to her. When she'd finished, she replaced the sheets face down, removed her spectacles and folded her hands together. So many questions—but now wasn't the time to ask them. Instead she peered from one face to the other, ninety percent certain she kenned what was going through each of their minds.
Jess... a tiny glimmer of rekindled hope that he has an as-yet living brother somewhere in the largely unpopulated peninsular state of Florida—an exotic mélange of scrub pine barrens, palmetto groves, mangrove swamps, salt marshes, alligators, wreckers and pirates. Naturally Jess feels an overpowering need to go looking for him... sooner rather than later. And the sister he was told was dead… evidently the investigators are far from satisfied on that score. He'll be compelled to follow up on that as well. Blood is, after all, thicker than friendship.
Slim... faced with the probability that Jess is once again going to desert him, go off on some disillusioning quest in search of closure to another unfinished facet of his previous life requiring reconciliation. And yet... if the missing sibling were Andy, Slim would move heaven and earth to find him, or at least determine what had become of him. When—not if—Jess requests a leave of absence, Slim will be morally obligated to grant it.
Some time back Jess had confided to Daisy that Slim had once given him an ultimatum: commit to being a part of the family... or ride out and never look back. That had been early in their relationship, though—more than a year before Daisy had taken up residence. The issue back then was the devastating effect it would have on Andy if Jess were to once again take off for parts unknown, as evidently he'd been doing with some regularity. But Andy'd been away at school for nearly two years now and was no longer part of the equation. There was Mike, of course, but he had a closer bond with Slim than with Jess. Not that Jess cared for him any less. It was just that the boy was so much younger than Andy, chronologically and developmentally, and hadn't developed the hero-worship complex that Andy had.
Pale as a ghost, Jess at length found his voice.
"What should I do?"
Slim took as long a time answering, all too conscious of Daisy's unspoken plea that he do the right thing and choose the right words.
"As Missus Kelly concludes, the decision is yours to make... but I know what I'd do. Under the circumstances I think you'd best follow your heart and make traveling plans. You'll never find peace if you don't go and find out for sure."
"Remember when you told me that if I left again...?"
"That was then. This is now. And it's different... it's not about some old war buddy or trail partner you feel you owe something... or an old flame who still has a hold on you... this is family..."
"You're family, too... an' I really do owe you..."
"Yes, we are... and yes, you do. But we owe you something as well... and that's the promise there'll still be a place for you here when you come home to us."
Daisy's eyes radiated approval although she held her tongue. Well said, Slim. I'm so proud of you. What needed to be discussed now—the logistics of Jess' absence from the ranch for an extended period—was men's business... but Slim wasn't done.
"Before we make any plans... or decisions, we should probably see what's in the package. I mean, I don't have any legal expertise here but..."
Jess eyed the unopened manila envelope and shuddered. "You go ahead an' open it an' read through it first. Ain't likely I'm gonna understand all that lawyer talk, anyway. Had enough trouble followin' that share business in the letter."
"If you're sure you want me to. There might be something personal in there you'd rather I don't see."
Jess stood up then, color slowly seeping back into his face and his heart rate returning to near normal, now that the initial shock was receding.
"Nah, you read it. You, too, Daisy. What I mainly understand is that I ain't gettin' no big wad a money anytime soon so ain't no sense worryin' on it. Maybe there'll be more information about Tony... Carlton, that is... that'll help me find him. I'm goin' out t'the barn. I got work to do."
"Well!" Daisy exclaimed after the kitchen's side door had closed behind Jess. "That was completely unexpected."
"No... not completely," Slim admitted. "Any more coffee in that pot?"
"Of course." Daisy went to fetch it and excused its somewhat syrupy condition. "I'm afraid it's stiff enough to stand a spoon in."
"Just what I need. Thanks." Slim took the knife Jess had used to slit the smaller envelope and started cutting the strings on the larger one. "Would you mind sitting with me while I look over this stuff?"
As it happened, Daisy had a mess of beans that needed snapping so was content to keep Slim company. It wasn't long before she had a question, however.
"What did you mean... 'not completely unexpected'? Did you know about this? How long have you been sitting on this information... and why have you kept it from Jess?"
"Remember the story I told you about that time, three years ago, when we all came down with illnesses and injuries at the same time... and all the helpers that bailed us out?"
"Yes... I remember... though I'm not sure how much of that was real and how much was simply tall tale."
"Oh, it was real, all right. And those two stage drivers... the Bobs... if I hadn't known better I would've sworn they came from the same litter as Jess. Anyway, Bob Kelly—the one whose wife wrote the letter—promised he was going to get her to dig into it and see if there was a connection. I reckon we've got our answer."
"What about the inheritance?"
"He brought that up while Jess was... well, I don't recollect exactly where he was but he wasn't in the room. We agreed that since we didn't know for sure there was a family connection, there wasn't much point in telling him about it and getting his hopes up."
"That makes sense. Hard to believe, though, that in all this time someone hasn't let the cat out of the bag."
"There was so much else going I suppose everyone forgot about it anyway... and Daisy... I really ought to finish going through these papers."
"Sorry I interrupted... not another peep until you're done."
The lull lasted five minutes...
"Slim?"
"What is it, Daisy?"
"You know he has to go."
"I know."
"What if he doesn't come back? Florida's so far away... anything could happen."
"Aren't you jumping the gun a little? Nothing's decided yet. I promise you... we'll find a way to work it out..."
Of course he's going. That's a given. But it's up to me to make sure he has ironclad reasons to return... that he understands beyond a shadow of a doubt that here is home, where he belongs...