A brief once over of Traveler confirms Jess's fears, it seems like he's strained a muscle in his back leg, probably from riding on hard trail without the shoe on. Jess frowns, knowing it'll take at least a week, maybe two, for the horse to be healed enough to ride again, even with the shoe replaced. It's bad timing, and he distractedly runs his hand down Traveler's flank while he tries to decide what to do next. Perhaps sensing his concerns Wyatt speaks up.
"Listen, I'd like to offer up a proposition for you. Seems like you'll be stuck for a while till your horse heals up, and we can always use an extra hand round the place. I can't afford to pay you, but you'll get three solid meals a day and a place to sleep if that sounds like a fair deal to you." It's more than fair, and Jess feels a surge of good-will towards the other man who had no need or cause to be so kind to a stranger on the drift but has offered his hand in help anyways. There's lots of folks who wouldn't have bothered, and he can't help but think for a moment of that first day at Sherman Ranch, the way that Slim had offered out his own hand when Jess had been nothing much but ornery towards the other man.
"That sounds more than fair to me, Wyatt. I'd sure appreciate it, and I can promise you I'll work to earn my keep." He replies earnestly, shaking off the memory before it can hurt too much. Wyatt smiles broadly, putting a familiar hand on Jess's shoulder.
"I'm sure you will, got the air 'bout you of a hard worker. Now look, since you're staying on I think that shoe'll keep until tomorrow. Why don't we go see what Emma's cookin' up, I don't know about you but I'm mighty hungry." As if on cue Jess's stomach turns over with a growl, the thought of warm food after nearly a week of jerky and beans making his mouth water.
"Yeah, I think I could go for a hot meal right about now." Jess admits wryly. With a last comforting pat on Traveller's rump he follows Wyatt over to the farmhouse, where already the tantalizing smell of fresh-cooked biscuits wafts from the half-open door.
Dinner is a lively affair, the five of them gathered around a little table nestled in the corner of the cabin. Tim and Frannie seem to have lost any of their earlier shyness, now peppering Jess with questions between bites of soup. Where he came from, where he was going, what his horse was named, if he was any good with that gun on his hip. Jess answers them all good-naturedly, charmed by the bright innocent curiousity of childhood, and half-reminded of when he and Andy had first met. It amuses him a little that Frannie, despite being the youngest, seems to be the one in charge between the two, leading the questioning with an unmistakable air of authority that her older brother begrudgingly defers to.
"You know, you're lucky to have a sister like you do." Jess says with a laugh, "She sure is tough ain't she." Frannie giggles at that, Tim glowering at her until she kicks him in the shin under the table. For a moment the dinner devolves into bickering, until Wyatt breaks it up with an amiable look, in a way that tells Jess this is a common occurence.
"Do you have any brothers or sisters?" Tim asks artlessly once the quarreling has subsided, a harmless question by any means, but one that cuts at Jess. He flinches without meaning to, the smell of smoke and fire and burning meat flashing in his head for a moment. Seeing his hesitation Mrs. Cobb hurriedly steps in, flashing her children a disapproving look.
"Now that is more than enough questions from you two, let the poor man eat in peace." She admonishes, Tim deflating under her sharp tone. Jess gathers himself, shaking the memory off and managing a smile. "It's alright Mrs. Co-, um, Emma. He didn't mean no harm." And then to the boy, gently so as he understands Jess isn't angry. "I did have siblings, a long time ago. Most of 'em are gone now, but I still got two brothers out there somewhere, though I don't reckon I'll be seeing 'em again." He tries to ignore the way Emma and Wyatt's faces soften with sympathy, keeping his eyes forward and taking an over-large bite of his biscuit. The mood dampens a little after that, an awkward silence settling on the family, but Jess tries his hardest to lift it again, drawing on light-hearted stories from his time on the drift until even Wyatt is slapping his knee with laughter.
Later, after the dinner dishes are cleared and the children sent off too bed, Wyatt sets Jess up in the hayloft with spare quilts and a pillow. He seems apologetic that they don't have room for him in the house, but the barn is warm and dry and there's plenty of straw to cushion Jess. He's slept far worse places, and tells Wyatt so cheerfully. With a last goodnight the rancher heads back to the cabin, leaving Jess alone at last. It's not too late, and Jess doesn't feel tired enough to sleep just yet. Taking a currycomb off the wall he lets himself into Traveller's stall, giving him a good thorough brush. The ritual has always worked to relax them both, and by the time Jess is done Trav's coat is shining and he feels some of the day's tension fall from his shoulders.
"Just you and me again, huh." He whispers into the horse's neck, leaning against his solid muscled body. "Damn. You miss 'em as much as I do? Reckon this is gonna hurt for a while, ain't it." Traveller whuffs, twisting his neck around to lip inquisitively at Jess's fingers in search of a treat. Jess lets out a laugh that's wetter then he'd like to admit, reaching into his pocket and feeding the greedy horse a piece of apple. Wiping a brusque hand across his cheeks he hangs the brush back up where he'd found it and settles himself into the hayloft for bed.
Slim sleeps fitfully that night, though for the first time not because of a gnawing sense of guilt but instead an impatience for morning to arrive so he can be away. Dawn comes quick and bright, the air crisp and cool and the sky smeared with pale pinks and yellows in the east. Slim eats a quick breakfast that he barely tastes, itching with eagerness to be on the road, to be closer to Jess. His saddlebags sit by the door, already packed the previous evening in preperation. Jonsey has stocked them with provisions, bandages (which Slim hopes he won't need), and a pot of his liniment. Jonsey had almost bashfully admitted he'd stitched up Jess's shirt he'd been wearing on the day he'd been thrown, and tucked it away in Slim's bags for just in case.
"Might need a clean shirt for out there on the road." He reasons, and Slim accepts it with a small knowing smile.
Just as Slim finishes tacking up Alamo and comes back inside to grab his rifle off the rack, Andy stumbles out of bed, dressed but with a bad case of bed head and his shirtails hanging loose.
"You're gonna bring him back, right Slim?" He asks, a note of plaintiveness in his voice that makes Slim's heart ache a bit.
"Listen Andy, I'm planning on doing everything I can to make sure Jess comes home. You got my word on that, alright?" Andy nods tightly, and, to Slim's suprise, throws his arms around Slim's waist and hugs him.
"Sorry I've been so down on you Slim, I know it wasn't your fault Jess left, I just miss him a lot." Slim softens, gut wrenching at his brother's pain but glad that whatever anger that had been hanging between them is gone. He returns the embrace, squeezing tight.
"I know Andy, I miss him too. But I'm gonna find that pig-headed man, and I'm gonna make sure he knows where he belongs." After a long moment Andy draws away, wiping at his cheeks but setting his chin out at an admirably stoic jut.
"Guess you better get going now, huh." Slim smiles, giving his brother a final pat.
"Look after Jonsey, huh? And look after the ranch, Jess and I need somewhere to come back too after all."
"Alright, that's enough of that. You'd better git, Slim." Jonsey says, pressing a newspaper wrapped box into Slim's hand. "Here's some vittles for the road. You look after yourself, now, and Jess too."
Slim takes the box, hearing all the things Jonsey can't say. "Okay Jonsey, I will." Slim rides in to Laramie first, hoping that maybe Jess'd have stopped in for supplies before he'd ridden off. It's not Judd working the storefront today but his son, and the young man shakes his head when Slim asks if he'd seen Jess come into the store about a week ago. Slim deflates a little, but he can't say he's rightly surprised, what with the way people had been talking. He's about to leave when Pete calls out, stopping him.
"Well, I didn't see him at all that day, but I'm pretty sure my sister mentioned passing by him. Think she said he was heading down the road south out of town. Don't know if that's any help."
"Yeah, it's a big help Pete, thanks." Slim says gratefully, pushing back out into the daylight with renewed vigor. If Jess was heading south that means the next stop along the road to pick up necessaries would be Buford, and he can make it there by afternoon if he pushes.
As it turns out, his suspicions are correct. After he describes Jess to the storekeep there he's rewarded mightily, the owner not only remembers Jess coming through, but also that they'd got to chatting and Jess had mentioned taking the Cherokee Trail down into Colorado towards Pueblo. It's with clear purpose that Slim bids his farewells and rides on, swinging himself up onto Alamo's back and pointing his horse southwards determinedly. Where ever you are Jess, just hold on, he thinks, I'm coming for you pard.
Jess settles easily into the Cobb's ranch, the work familiar and strangely comforting. Together with Wyatt he strings fences, bales hay, mends tack, and wrangles the occasional stray steer. The older man is good company, quiet when he needs to be, but quick with a laugh and an easy smile. In the evenings they eat all together in the farmhouse - Jess had offered to take his meals in the barn and been laughed off- and Jess is fast to admit that Emma is as fine a cook as there ever was. Sometimes after dinner he'll go out in the yard and teach the kids how to throw a lariat, Frannie especially taking to it quick, or sit on the porch with Wyatt and shoot the breeze until the sun goes down like he used to sometimes with Slim.
Being here with them soothes some of the raw edges of Jess's soul, enough to ease the pain he's been carrying like a piece of lead in his gut since he left Laramie. The hurt is still there of course, but more distant now. So that he can almost forget about it in the moments between until he's lying in his bed of straw at night with only the gentle whuffling of the horses and the sound of wind across the roof and it comes to him that he'll never lay in his bunk back at the ranch again listening to Jonsey snore, never watch Andy play with one of his ever-expanding menagerie in the backyard, never ride out along the green pastures and hills with Slim. It feels like too much loss to bear at once, like soon he won't have anything of him left to give when it all keeps being left behind. Still, Jess has never known how to do anything but keep on going, so he supposes that's what he'll do now. Just ride and drift until his time finally comes. It's how he'd always figured things would go, but the thought feels unusually bitter now.
