Here we are again with Jess! Constructive feedback and comments are always welcome. I hope you enjoy!

We're getting closer to the big moment we've all been waiting for... Stay tuned :)

Chapter 10: Jess's Responsibilities

"Wha'd'ya think you're doin'? Let go of me, Jess!" Knute exclaimed, doing his best to dig his heels in. "I can take care of myself!"

Jess just held tighter to Knute's upper arm as he drug him through the camp. Sure ya can, kid, Jess thought, determinedly putting one foot in front of the other as he scanned the crowd for what he needed.

The younger boy continued to struggle, and Jess could hear the quick beat-and-swish he'd grown so used to as it sped up in frustration. "C'mon, Jess, I'm not a kid anymore! I'm fifteen years old, for real this time!" Jess gritted his teeth and didn't dignify that with a response.

Jess had to admit, though, that Knute had indeed grown up a bit. He'd grown several inches since they had first met. His face had lost much of its round, boyish look, and he looked more like his older brother every day. Knute wasn't the only one who'd grown, though. Jess still easily had the upper hand physically. Without his permission, Jess's thoughts drifted back over the past two years.

Most of it blended together in the monotony of camp life, with only flashes of excitement, anticipation and the fear that came with battles. Jess had marked his seventeenth birthday moving north into Tennessee with the Yankees on the run. Throughout the campaign, Duncan and Jess played a lot of poker together while Knute and Tommy watched intently. It became quite the lucrative pastime. Duncan encouraged the other men to bet whatever they had, including thicker blankets, better rifles, coats that hadn't worth through the elbows yet, and even a few pairs of socks. Duncan set them up and Jess quietly cleaned them out over the space of a few hands. Jess knew that Knute's growth spurt was partially in thanks to the extra rations they'd been able to win. Jess's prized possession was the bowie knife and sheath he'd won from a mean-looking sergeant. He kept it in his boot, sincerely hoping no union soldier would ever get close enough that he'd have to use it.

While on the march, Jess always kept his senses alert. He'd become much better at balancing things on his own and as long as he didn't push too hard, he could usually pick up signs and sounds that no one else could. He figured the moderate headache that he lived with was a worthy price for the extra awareness. He practiced as they marched, listening for Knute's distinctive cadence on his drum. He usually found it toward the back of the regiment. One particular day, while searching for Knute's drumming out of sheer boredom, Jess was sure he heard the crunch of frost under boots. Boots that were not marching in time with their infantry. Without even thinking, Jess broke rank and headed for the nearest officer, leaving Tommy gaping in his wake. A hastily hissed "Jess!" chased after him.

"Sir, there's a patrol in those trees, just off our flank," Jess said, pointing towards the trees the sound had come from.

The officer, who happened to be one General Cheatham, looked down his nose at Jess from his saddle. "Get back in line, private," he said, dismissing the young man with a careless wave of his hand.

"I'm sorry general, sir, but you've got to listen to me. There's at least ten of them, maybe more, getting into position," Jess said, a bit desperate now. He'd never stopped to consider that the general wouldn't believe him. On the other hand, why would any man believe the word of a private, claiming to hear something no one else could? Jess thought of his uncle Johnny and stiffened.

How can I make him listen, without him thinkin' I've lost my mind?

Other men were turning to look now, listening to the exchange and waiting to see if any real sparks would fly.

"Private, I will not tell you again. These woods were cleared by our scouts before dawn. There is not one single Yank between here and –"

Jess knew he was out of time as soon as he heard the dreaded click of a gun being cocked. He grabbed the front of the general's coat and hauled him down off of his horse just as the first bullets started to fly. Jess covered the shocked man with his body as he swung his own rifle around and started firing at the unseen enemy, still hidden in the trees.

It was over in minutes. A few of their own cavalry chased after the union soldiers. General Cheatham simply shoved Jess off and remounted his horse, grumbling away about insubordinate young men overreacting to a twig snap. He rode away toward the front of the column, leaving a flabbergasted Jess behind. Jess closed his mouth and shook his head, hands on his hips, as he moved to rejoin Tommy in line. Jess's temper rose up. Don't that beat all, he thought, grinding his teeth, never mind that the first shot went through the space his head had been in a moment before. Overreacting, my a—

"Soldier!" a shout broke Jess's train of thought before he could work up much steam. He turned back to see a colonel riding towards him.

Jess stood at attention, hoping not to offend any more precious little officers today. "Yes sir!"

The colonel then did something really strange. He dismounted to speak with Jess. This is sure turnin' into an odd day, Jess thought, hoping his surprise wasn't too plain on his face.

"I'm Colonel Young. What's your name, private?"

"Jess Harper, sir, from the 9th Texas."

Colonel Young stared hard at Jess, and Jess stared back. Jess noticed the other man had to be at least forty, and that his eyes were the color of well-made coffee. His expression was softer than Jess had expected. Quietly, the colonel asked, "Mind tellin' me just how you knew those boys were hidin' in those trees, Harper?" while the rest of the company kept marching past, barely sparing them a glance. Jess flexed his jaw a bit, not exactly sure what to say.

"I heard them, sir." Best to stick as close to the truth as I can, he mused. Seeing the colonel nod, Jess figured he'd made the right choice.

"Texan, you said. You got much experience with horses, boy?"

"Yes sir, grew up in a livery," Jess answered, not entirely sure where this was going. Colonel Young nodded again, as if that settled some matter.

Turning to face down the road, the colonel yelled to one of the sergeants. "Bring up a mount for Corporal Harper!"

Jess blinked a few times, still standing at attention, sure this time that his face was giving away his confusion. Right away, another soldier was leading forward a dappled gray horse, saddled and ready.

Colonel Young turned back to Jess. "Well, Corporal Harper, what are you waiting for? Mount up and scout ahead. Report directly to me." When Jess still didn't move, the colonel leaned in close to his face. "That's an order, Harper. Don't make me change my mind already."

"Yes sir!"

Jess saluted as quickly as he could, vaulted straight into the saddle without touching the stirrups, and took off toward the front. When he caught up with where Duncan and Tommy were marching in line, he slowed just enough to give them a grin and a cocky half salute before riding on again.

-Laramie-

Jess's new duties didn't go much beyond scouting the area and taking the occasional dispatch between officers, but Jess was truly thrilled to be both out of camp and riding again. He hadn't realized how much he'd missed being out on his own. Every time he made it back to camp, he reported to Colonel Young or his staff before finding his friends. Knute and Tommy would be waiting to hear about all of his daring adventures and narrow escapes from union troops, while Duncan pretended not to care at all. Jess typically just laughed and did his best to embellish a few stories for their benefit. He still found time for a hand or two of poker to keep Duncan from getting too sour. Despite the weather turning colder and the ever-present threat of battle, Jess actually felt pretty content with his life.

That contented feeling ended sharply three days ago, just outside of Murfreesboro, Tennessee.

The new year was brought in with cannon fire and weather so cold it hurt to breathe. Jess stood in line with Duncan and Tommy, their breath rising in billowing clouds as the weak dawn light filtered through the tree line. Jess had to turn his sense of touch all the way up just to feel the rifle in his numb fingers.

The fighting was as brutal as the wind, but the 9th Texas infantry was holding its own. On the third day of fighting, they were ordered to advance and protect the left flank of a Tennessee brigade. They successfully fought their way forward and were pushing the union army back. Just as Jess thought they might make it out with a victory, he realized something was wrong. The direction of the rifle and cannon fire had shifted. When Jess took a moment to really look around, his heart nearly stopped in his chest. They had blue uniforms in front and behind them, with nowhere left to run.

Out of the corner of his eye, Jess spotted Colonel Young. Even through the chaos of battle, Jess could see the other man's eyes flashing. Jess made his way over to the colonel as quickly as possible.

"Sir! Behind us!" Jess shouted, gesturing to the blue uniforms closing in on them. Colonel Young turned and his eyes widened. He looked around a bit more, realizing they were completely without support. The Tennessee brigade they were supposed to be defending was nowhere in sight. Colonel Young grabbed their banner from the sergeant holding it nearby.

"The only way out is through, gentlemen!" he cried. Jess was amazed to see the troops start to rally. He felt renewed strength and confidence well up in his chest. As misplaced as the confidence seemed, Jess leaned into the feeling. He brought his rifle up to his shoulder and fired, advancing forward along with the rest of the unit.

We just might make it, Jess thought as he reloaded yet again. The regiment in front of them was starting to falter. He brought his rifle up again only to have it jam. He ripped it down in frustration. As he attempted to solve the problem, he heard something over the howl of the wind that made his blood run cold.

"Jess!"

All the way across the field, his eyes found Knute. He had abandoned his drum for a rifle and was frantically trying to reload it. Jess was powerless as he watched a union officer across from them, one of the last left in the opposing line, take aim. Right before he fired, when Jess was sure he'd have to watch Knute die, Duncan was there. In a flash of gray and a BANG from the union gun, Jess watched them both fall. Jess started to run.

Back in the present, Jess shook his head to clear away the image. He tightened his grip on Knute's arm again.

"You may be fifteen, Knute, but you ain't got no place picking up a gun. We had 'em whooped and they knew it. All you had to do was keep your head down for five more minutes. If you'd'a done that, your brother wouldn't be lyin' on a cot havin' a minnie ball taken out of his shoulder," Jess said, pulling Knute around to face him. A third of their unit had been injured or killed. Jess didn't believe in miracles, but he did realize they were all lucky to be alive.

Knute stopped struggling and looked down at his boots. "I know that, Jess, honest I do. I never wanted any of you to get hurt on my account," he said, the guilt clear in his voice.

Jess sighed and continued his search. He knew that Knute had no idea how badly he'd scared the other three. Tommy had shot that union officer without hesitation, his actions cold and calculated, but had been beside himself once he realized Duncan had been hit. When they were finally able to leave the field, Tommy had supported Duncan all the way back to the medical tent while Jess had grabbed Knute. Jess was still surprised he hadn't completely zoned at the sight of Duncan and Knute falling to the ground. Even now, hours later, his senses were spiking out of control. He desperately needed to get Knute squared away and find a quiet spot to regain his composure.

At last, Jess found who he'd been looking for. He marched Knute up to the cot where Colonel Young was lying, a nurse tending to a wound in his arm. Jess waited until the nurse had finished with the bandage and moved on to the next soldier before speaking.

"Colonel, sir," Jess started, saluting the man. "I can't help but notice you'll be needin' someone to tend your horse and run errands while you recover. This young soldier has volunteered for the job." Knute glanced between Jess and the colonel, looking like he wanted to argue that point, but was smart enough to keep his mouth shut. He'd never seen Jess act quite like this and he didn't want to push it.

Colonel Young held his arm close to his chest as he sat up, swinging his legs over the edge of the cot to face the two soldiers. He looked over Knute with an appraising eye.

"You ever work with horses before, son?" the colonel asked.

Knute, who had never actually cared for a horse before, hesitated. All he could say was, "Well, sir…" before Jess cut him off.

"Ain't no matter, colonel, I'll train him myself." Jess said, resisting the urge to rub his eyes. He blinked forcefully instead. His vision was starting to blur a bit and his headache was climbing. Not again, not now, he worried. He just needed a few more minutes upright and focused before he could sort himself out.

Colonel Young was now watching Jess, his eyes seeming to take everything in. "Alright, corporal, see that you do. Private…?"

"Private Knute Duncan, sir."

"Private Duncan, I'll expect you at my side at all times during my recovery unless I order you otherwise. My horse is the bay at the edge of camp. See that he's taken care of." Both Jess and Knute started to leave.

"Harper, a word," the colonel added. Jess finally released Knute's arm and gave him a little nudge to keep him moving before he turned back to the colonel.

"Yes, sir?" Jess asked, sincerely hoping he hadn't overstepped by asking the officer to take Knute on. He wasn't sure he had the time or the energy to deal with anything else at the moment.

Instead of annoyance or frustration, however, Jess saw the same soft look he'd seen the day he was promoted to corporal. Using his good arm, Colonel Young put his hand on the junction between Jess's neck and shoulder, just in the right place so his thumb was resting on the bare skin above Jess's collar. Jess stood stock still, at a loss as to how to handle the situation.

"I believe, Jess, you might need a moment to calm down," he said, his voice pitched low. His voice had changed, just slightly, so no one but a sentinel could have heard the difference. Jess felt almost hypnotized. He found himself nodding gently as his eyes slipped closed. Every muscle seemed to relax and the tension he was feeling just bled out of him. His ears felt like they were stuffed with cotton. Every little sound and smell pulling at his attention faded into the background. Vaguely, Jess wondered why on Earth he melted so quicky by just listening to this man's voice. The sensation of his knees starting to buckle shocked him back to awareness and his eyes snapped open.

The first thing Jess realized was that his ever-present headache was gone. His vision was crystal clear for the first time in months, and his mind felt sharper than ever before. The second thing he realized was that the man in front of him must be a guide.

"Feel better?" the colonel asked, smiling softly, the skin around his eyes crinkling.

Jess, still feeling like he was under some sort of spell, simply nodded and said, "Yessir," the same way he might have spoken to his father. With that, Colonel Young removed his hand and the moment was broken.

"Glad to hear it, corporal. Thank you for your vigilance today, it no doubt saved many lives," he said, loud enough now that others could hear. "Dismissed."

Jess turned immediately and went to find Knute, hoping the kid hadn't managed to lame the colonel's horse while unsupervised. As he walked to the edge of camp, he thought about Colonel Young and what had just happened. The only guide he'd ever met until now had been Beth. Colonel Young was pretty close to her opposite. When Beth had guided him, it had felt like she was just nudging him in the right direction, keeping him grounded. She had been helpful, but Jess had always been in control of himself. With the Colonel, thought… Jess had been completely at the other man's mercy. For once in his life, thought, letting go of control hadn't seemed so bad. Jess wasn't sure what unsettled him most: The fact that Colonel Young had been able to take away his control, or that Jess had let him do it without protest. He shivered a bit as the wind found its way down his collar, and he did his best to ignore the warm feeling his still had where the colonel's hand had been. Jess figured it really didn't matter which thought was worse. Either way, he decided to enjoy his renewed balance and the absence of his headache while it lasted. He quickened his step to catch up with Knute.

-Laramie-

Duncan's injury turned out to be less serious than they had originally thought. The surgeon had the round plucked out of his arm quickly and the nurses bandaged him up. Once he got past the pain and the shock, he was back with the rest of the boys in camp and acting as superior as ever. The colonel kept Knute busy and, to Jess's relief, out of danger for the time being. Duncan, predictably, wasn't thrilled with the arrangement, or at least wasn't thrilled that Jess had come up with it. Tommy, on the other hand, understood why Jess had done it.

One night, while the moon was high and most of the camp was asleep, Tommy found Jess a ways away from the rest of the soldiers. He was sitting alone on top of a boulder with his elbows resting on his knees. He knew immediately that Jess would have a letter in his hands. The moonlight caught Jess's hair, turning the edges of each dark curl silver.

"That from Francie?" he asked, knowing Jess had already heard him approach. Jess nodded without turning around as Tommy hauled himself up to sit next to his friend. Looking over Jess's shoulder at the letter, Tommy started to chuckle.

"Jess, no matter how good your vision is, I don't see how you can read a word that girl writes."

Jess glanced over to Tommy, smiling. "You wanna know a secret, Tom? I can't," he said, both of them laughing quietly now. "These last few months she's been tryin' what she calls Women's Writin', with all them curly letters all linked together. Either she ain't got the hang of it yet or I'm just plumb blind."

Tommy knew Jess was far from blind, but he wasn't stupid enough to insult Jess's kid sister even as a joke. "How do you manage to write her back, if you can't see well enough to read her letters?"

"I manage to puzzle out the gist of it," Jess said. His smile faltered. "The hard part of writing back is knowin' what to say. She don't need to know how it is here. Mostly I try and keep it light, like tellin' her what horse I rode this week, or who I met."

Tommy nodded. He was quiet for a minute, remembering the little dark-haired girl with serious eyes he'd seen around town. "How old is she now?"

Jess folded up the letter and tucked it back into his coat. He looked up and toward the west, imagining he could see all the way to Texas. "She just turned eleven," he said, his tone almost wistful.

Tommy let out a low whistle. "I don't hardly believe ya, Jess. I can't believe we been gone from home that long," he said, shaking his head. "With the way people were headin' out of there, I wonder how much of a town is even left."

The corner of Jess's mouth pulled up in a wry half smile. "Judgin' by Francie's complainin', the same minister's runnin the church and his wife is as strict as ever with them Sunday school classes," he said. "Otherwise, she ain't said too much. Mostly she writes about what she learned in school or what new recipe Mrs. Benton has been tryin' to teach her."

"You ever regret lettin' me talk you into comin' out here?" Tommy asked.

Jess considered the question before answering, thinking about that day by the pond. He took a deep breath of the cold night air in and let it out. "No, Tom, I reckon I don't."

They lapsed into comfortable silence after that. Tommy tipped his head back, looking up at the stars. He wondered what it looked like to Jess now; how many more specks of light he was able to see. His fingers were getting cold sitting out here in the dark, but he knew he had to say what he came to say before he could go back to his bedroll. He took a breath.

"Knute isn't Fancie, you know."

Jess didn't move and didn't respond, but Tommy knew he had his attention.

"I know how much he means to you, Jess. I've watched you watch over him since the very first day, right after we joined up. I know I don't always notice stuff like you do, but I've been watchin' him. He ain't that much younger than we were when we first joined up. He ain't gonna appreciate bein' treated like somebody's kid sister, no matter how much that somebody is tryin' to protect him," Tommy said, watching for Jess's reaction. His words earned him a little huff of air and he watched as Jess turned his head away. "You hearin' me, Jess?" Tommy asked, doing his best to be gentle. The last thing he wanted was to push Jess away.

"I hear ya," Jess replied, so softly that Tommy almost missed it. "I've been thinkin' on that for quite a spell." Jess turned back to face him, his blue eyes vivid even in the pale moonlight. "I just don't know how to let go 'a worryin' about him."

Tommy nodded his understanding. "I ain't got siblings, and with a pa like mine I thank the Lord above for that. But if I did have brothers, I reckon I would'a picked 'em just about like you and Knute and even Duncan on his good days," he said, both boys sharing a smile at Duncan's expense. "But Jess, Knute still has to be his own man and grow up in his own way. Eventually you'd run out of officers to stick him with anyway." Jess looked away again.

"I know, Tommy. You ain't wrong; I know I can't hide him away forever. Anyway, he lost his home to this war. The way I figure it, he's got more of a reason to be fightin' in this war than either of us do," Jess said.

"I never thought about it quite like that," Tommy said. "When we joined up, I was just so focused on getting out of town I didn't stop to think about much else. Did you hear about that proc… Proc somethin' about slavery that Lincoln announced a few days ago?"

Jess nodded. "Emancipation Proclamation," he said, doing his best to pronounce the words. They sounded like nonsense to him, but smart nonsense all the same. "The officers were talkin' about it today. It means all the slaves they've got down here are free now, accordin' to the northern laws."

Tommy sat with that for a moment. Back in Texas, he'd never even known anyone rich enough to own another person. Now that he'd really seen it, he found the reality of slavery unsettling.

"Jess, you ever wonder… If maybe we ain't on the right side of this?" His gaze slid over to Jess, who was now watching the stars. Tommy once again wondered what the stars looked like through Jess's eyes.

"I reckon it's a bit late to be thinkin' like that," Jess said quietly. "It ain't like we can go back and swap sides. But I'd be lyin' if I said I hadn't thought about it."

Tommy shook his head gently. "You're right about that. No where to go but forward with what we got," he said, sliding off of their rock. Jess landed lightly beside him. "For what it's worth, Jess," Tommy continued, slinging his arm around Jess's shoulders as the two ambled back to their blankets, "I'm sure there are worse men than you to go through a war with. Can't think of any right now, but I'm sure there must be someone worse."

Jess grinned at the friendly jibe, shoving Tommy away from him. "I'm glad to have you with me, too, Tommy."

Jess lay down to sleep that night thinking about what Tommy had said. He figured his best course of action would be to teach Knute everything he'd learned about shooting and staying alive in a war before letting fate take over. Tommy was right, about all of it, and he couldn't quite wrap his head around how much Tommy had grown up since they left home. How had his overly talkative friend become so wise? He fell asleep with a smile, thinking he'd finally have something worthwhile to write Francie about.

In that moment, Jess had no way of knowing what was to come. Just a few weeks past his eighteenth birthday, Jess's world would shatter with four simple words:

"We can't find Tommy."