I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD, TWICE…
By Neebeeshaabookway. (2007,
version)
INTRODUCTION:
My very first fanfic story, a short little string-to-string
tying-knot. One that led to good
‘ol Barb Taylor to push for more. As
with all my fanfic, I enjoy stringing all the eps together in fun ways.
I like to reuse certain thoughts or ideas, in my stories, that I started,
as well, but ONLY so all my stories fit into overlapping pieces. It is just a fun idea that came to me one night.
This is revised just a bit, keeping it refreshed, especially for Tony
Gill’s collection, here, but still keep simple, as simply to be a fun answer,
drawing in other ep pieces.
Dedicated to Laramie-mystery-lovers everywhere, solving the puzzle of
the “mysterious” Francie... a follow up for:
FUGITIVE ROAD, and SHADOW OF THE PAST
In the Laramie story section while roaming a Laramie fanfic site, years back, the gal, Annie, was speaking about Francie, Annie said “go figure...” so I did. With the Laramie honoring, being done for FOTW, it seemed good timing to bring this back to life again. May you all be encouraged to work on these interesting Laramie puzzles !
Here is the
story—have fun!
CHAPTER ONE —
EVENING
Jess looked up over his shoulders, the last of the huge white clouds had
slowly passed on... he kind of missed them, they reminded him of the timber
line, a special place where mountains seem to touch sky... they had been with
him at the Sherman Ranch all day, “playing” way above his head--a treat that
he treasured in his heart. He
lowered his head and headed for the house, sun was just starting to set, here it
was, evening already. It had
been a good day, just a regular one; an early breakfast of biscuits & bacon
and of course—coffee. Yeah,
good coffee, he thought. He had
patched up a few things, done the same ol’ chores, took care of the stage, and
horses. Yep, the usual day’s chores, but Slim was gone.
Daisy and Mike too, and that was a little unusual considering they left
only 1 hour ago… he still had the feel of them being nearby and ready for
supper. Kind’a
last minute though, to be spending the night with Daisy’s friend and
new baby, he
reasoned,
they just grabbed up a few things and left in a flurry of commotion.
He
could expect them back just before noon tomorrow, as he stewed in some more
wondering, and set it to-a-to-simmer.
Jess stepped up onto the porch and listened to the sound of his own boot
steps on the wood as he walked into the house. Daisy had left him his “memory food”. He reheated the food, the food that he ate so often in the
panhandle. He took some of
Daisy’s biscuits and stuffed them with fried potatoes & bacon.
It was nice of her to make it for him, he thought, as he stepped outside
into the evening:
Oh no, forgot some coffee... best to get it now, then I can sit a spell
and watch the stars come out. He
made the quick trip back in-and-out, and then set it all on his make-shift
bench. He then sat back into the
chair and let his body relax... and he thought… he thought about Francie.
She had just left with Ben yesterday, as a wife ought.
She still lingered in his mind as she had lingered in his field of vision
on the far end of the road yesterday, as the wagon had disappeared out of sight. Francie and Ben, on their way west.
CHAPTER TWO –
COYOTE PUPS
It was good to be alone tonight, maybe Slim knew.
He always just seemed to know. Jess
hadn’t run across anyone quite like Slim, he was someone he was able to
entrust part of his life to. With a
deep heavy sigh he thought about his life, he remembered back... far back:
we were just kids, Harper kids. And
Francie... a scrawny little kid she was. In fact, he had even called
her his “kid” sister. As he
studied the matter, he realized they were all born so close together that he
never really knew who was older or younger.
Why, we all just felt about the same, like a pack of pups... coyote
pups at that! Running around,
playing rough, snip-snapping at each others heels, and rolling around in the
grassy brush. Of course, coyote
pups didn’t have to work all day, but evenings like this one tonight, that was
our time. Yeah, I remember...
chasing those fireflies and looking out for an occasional snake out on
“evening patrol” and other evening critters too, like….
He felt a slight shudder... yes... he remember other things just
now, stuff he sometimes wished he could forget, but knew he never would... or
could... even if he tried. Well,
Bannister was dead now, he was finally able to see that matter settled.
Even though he couldn’t do it personally, he knew it was meant to be.
He always seemed to be prevented, or – hitting a “wound” deep
inside just now– maybe he was really spared… spared
from meeting-up close with Bannister, face to face.
A noise startled him and Jess looked up to see a jack rabbit running
past the porch, up so close he could see its eyes. He snapped back to his childhood thoughts of Francie.
He could almost feel the time they tripped each other, running after
rabbits near about dusk. He had took her home then, and cleaned up that “kid” sis
of his... HAH! ... now HE was the kid!
CHAPTER THREE –
FROM SEARCH TO DRIFT
As he ate slowly, Jess thought heavy and savored both food and Francie.
Yep, Francie set him straight all right, that day in Mort’s office.
She called him her “little” brother.
She made him smile that day, she just knew him so well: “Gallivanting
all over creation” she had said, “little brother” she had said…
and I had told Gil that she was MY kid sister.
It’s just that she was so small and slight he had just naturally felt
older. He was more aggressive and protective of her... always
hanging out together... until he left. He
left her. It hung in his mind
awhile. But, reasoning with
himself, he knew that she knew firsthand, and clearly understood why he had
to leave. It was his “gut
feeling”. Francie was towards the
“inner circle” of understanding Jess’ gut feelings and how he was prone to
them. Yep, Francie had to
know, he had always hung-on to that fact—but the pain was still there for that
lone-coyote-pup-Jess… and for years on-end.
Revealed truth, settles a man’s heart though, and more truly-so, when
they bear-witness to an inner-reckon.
Good ‘ol Francie… she knew—she always did.
He let it slide now, as he studied his long hard way, the way that let
his “kid sis” sadly slip from saddle:
That “gut feeling” of his, at the time, had been to search; and
search he did. This was the
beginning of an even deeper search than he really understood at first.
There was the Bannister gang, the first trail he took to; also the war
which was a scar in many a mans life, but then there were many more trails and
many more towns, and a never-ending array of horizons for the new Jess
Harper. Jess felt the wisp of a
breeze in his face at that moment:
‘Yeah,’ he said
to himself, ‘I was ‘susceptible’ to the drift.
I caught the ‘scent’ and drifted with the wind.
A tumbleweed that’s all I was... a searching tumble weed.
First a little green, but soon ‘well seasoned’ and ‘weathered’…
and later starting to feel a little dry inside.’
CHAPTER FOUR –
THE VAGUE MYSTERY WOMAN
He did go back once though, and he saw that Francie was married to
Gil… it was something good he had thought.
A woman should be cared for and have a home.
Home, that special word--Jess stretched back and pushed his legs out
straight, with a deep breath he stretched out fully. It felt so good. So
did looking up at the stars. They
were just about all visible now. Coffee
was still warm... time to pour some or it would soon be cold, as would soon be
the night. The moon hadn’t come
around yet. It would soon shed its
light, like a giant candle appearing suddenly.
He knew it would light up the porch area of the yard as it moved over the
house. He knew he would get a full
clear view of it and the yard.
Light. Yeah, Francie shed a lot
of light on the confusing darkness of what that sergeant said:
Francie being dead by her own hand and all and then, after a spell, what
his friend happened upon in the Galveston newspaper.
She was dead all over again but this time by a terrible sickness.
He only had memories of their youth... she was just a kid... a
“used-to-be-Harper” and now she was a “dead-used-to-be-Harper”.
Jess shifted, a mite uneasy, now:
“So what was I supposed to believe” he questioned out loud, his
voice breaking into the still of the night as he remembered the Galveston
newspaper, and the army-sergeant’s story.
He was deep in thought again, what
was I supposed to believe, my sister had become some kind of a vague mystery
woman, like when the moons hidden by heavy dark clouds... playing a sickening
game of hide and go seek.
He never did try to play detective the first time.
He was told she was dead and just believed.
It was easy enough, since he had seen his family die, what else was he
supposed to expect. Then news came
of her name in that paper and he had to check on it... maybe at least he could
pay his respects this time... SURE... buried in the bay, the sheriff wrote him.
Jess’ eyes were closed and they felt moist. He could feel her hand in his, in his mind, as they met again
that day, the day he got that note from Mose.
He had read it just a few feet away from where he was sitting now.
It was a nice warm sunny, day, too—not the type he’d picture, as to
bay-burying-thoughts. Then, when he
arrived in town, there she was, a woman in black, up on a wagon... he had
ventured closer... it was Francie, and he touched her.
She was real and alive. Seemed
the day had power to warm, stronger then the sun’s earlier rays.
Jess opened his eyes and the moisture rolled down his cheeks ever so
slowly and gently, Francie…
CHAPTER FIVE —
FROM DESERTED TO DEAD
There in Laramie, in the midst of Francies’ troubles that day – Jess
had that feeling – that special “gut feeling”, that nothing would happen until they had a chance to have a
nice long talk... and sure enough he was right.
They had their talk just before she left yesterday.
She took him aside and told him how Gil deserted her.
She was so relieved, she had told him--it hadn’t been good with Gil.
Jess pictured Francie there on the step at his feet, looking up at him
as she had yesterday--just like a “kid” sister could. He just couldn’t shake that word. He just finished eating and now threw-down the biscuit crumbs
over the edge of the porch, into the dirt.
Dirt. Gils true
nature, dirtying things up, had come-out under pressure… this was not a good
man, and he had learned from his own experience. Jess remembered Gils lies up on
the Lolo trail. Moving back, he
took another trail, but Francie
was a good woman and Gil was her husband back then--what could she do but see it
through?
“Deserting me was the best thing that happened to me”, he could still hear her words as clear as the cool night air. She had been so afraid Gil would come back, and it mustn’t ever happen… she knew it well. She had confided in a friend of hers, and had her pass the story of her death by her own hand. People would believe a story of lost love, deep sorrows, and the shame that goes with being deserted. Let the towns people talk and spread it around. With her friend to “close the door” on the details, Francie had left in the dead of night with the clothes on her back… for Galveston. Probably on a night like this one… Panhandle can get cold too at night, too--Jess caught himself rubbing his arms, in the know. Picturing her once again he could hear her thoughts as she had stepped into the night: ‘Jess, my protector did it, he left on his own, and he taught me well. If he could do it so could I… I’m a Harper deep-inside, always was, always will be…’
CHAPTER SIX — HER FACE
A Harper! Yeah, well not
anymore, not where it shows, now she’s a McKittrick, and its over-riding, just
a tad, but he was truly happy for her this time, and it moved him.
He remembered her face had glowed softly when she had told him that he
would like Ben. People eventually
heard of Gil’s army desertion and death, and then the “so-called” news
about Francie, now had icing on its cake. All
the better for her, she reckoned, she was free to marry, and she even had a new
beau… but she just couldn’t take that next step, but then she “took
sick” and her new beau, Ben, stayed. He
didn’t desert her like Gil. She
saw him see her through it, and nurse her back to health.
Again Jess could feel it… he saw her face as he remembered it in
Mort’s office that day they began their talk.
Yes, began only--she didn’t bare ALL her heart until yesterday
right here on this same porch... just near before sunrise.
It touched his heart again, now.
They both had stood outside early that crisp morning as if “called”
to a secret meeting, studying each others faces and looking into familiar eyes,
they said in unison — “guess I just couldn’t sleep, how about you?”.
They laughed . They laughed
together, into the sunrise.
Yep, she appeared in his life just like the moon which was now beginning
to light the yard. Jess glanced up
at it for a slight moment and then looked into the yard.
Moonlit shadows... a little hard to make out just now.
Just like in life, sometimes things are hard to make out.
We just need a good sunrise... or until then... at least a full moon!
He thought, yeah, full moon, I’d enjoy that right about now.
He remembered how he felt as Francie had told him the story, on the
familiar floor-boards of what was now his home--unfolding it as the sun rose on
them warming their skin. How could
he tell her he that knew first hand about Gil and his deceiving nature?
That he had felt the pain of her death not once, but twice in his life.
Her face was so pained when he had told her about the Galveston
newspaper. How could he tell her
how he felt when that Sergeant Jordon “threw it in his face” that night near
Canada’s border: “She’s
dead.” It would ring in his
ears sometimes in the middle of the night as he slept and he’d even wake up
hearing himself shout it at Gil, before he killed him.
Why “rake it up”, it wasn’t true, he knew that now, and he didn’t
want her to hurt for him. He’d
let it sit. He’d let her move on
for now, keeping his extra piece of Harper-news locked safe in his heart. It had “sprouted” through his “rubbish pile” of
buried memories into a new green healthy shoot of fresh life.
Raking at it would hurt the tenderness of that new life, and her
happiness. Maybe...maybe
someday...maybe not. Yeah… I
thought you were dead, twice… but once is enough for now. Time would tell, and they had that now. Jess knew Francie would take the brunt of it because she
always understood him so well, that inner part of his feelings, that part that
he kept hidden so well from outsiders. He
was her protector, once again—at long last.
CHAPTER SEVEN —
THE GUT FEELINGS
Feelings... Jess ran this word through his mind, as he leaned his
head back and ran his fingers through his hair, he stretched out again as he had
before. Good feelings, bad
feelings, and gut feelings. Gut
feelings, yep, gut feelings. That
good ol’ “gut feeling”.
He told Francie, from a gut feeling, that nothing was going to happen
until they had a chance for that nice long talk.
He had been right, the Keefers were finished in Ben’s life and hers.
He chuckled to himself, no wonder she wanted to use that idea of her
husband being dead. She used it for
herself and it worked. She had
wanted desperately for it to work for Ben.
But then, no one was looking for proof of her death.
Gil didn’t want to check it out, he wanted freedom from the army in
Canada, and… and me?... And me, he thought, her own brother...I just
accepted it. Why?
He knew very well, circumstances were different with a gunman like
McKittrick. The Keefers had reason
to suspect and search...and me? Why
would I have dared to hope?
Seems
Someone saw fit to expose more Harper past though, and Jess swallowed hard, as
that Someone seemed to continually nudge him to take note of things, when the
light was just right, and hopes were completely out of focus.
Francie’s “stepping forth”, was no accident, and it had to done
just right, from all the angles.
The moon now had moved up over the house, the yard was fully lit.
Jess could now see clearly in the dark.
Yep...he thought about it again... it took Francie herself, a
shadow form the past turning up as a candle, shedding the light I needed.
It was clear now... yeah... like the moon made the yard clear to him.
Jess had that gut feeling again just now.
He knew he would see her again. He
knew she had a chance for happiness and a home now, and he did too, with Slim,
here. Home, a place to feel special
friendships ... family... that bond that sometimes has no words to describe the
powerful pull of it. Yeah, he
really needed this night to himself. It
felt good, so good. Ol’ Slim
must have had a gut feeling about tonight too!
Just as the breeze picked up ever so slightly, and played with his hair,
Jess knew something else... he had that gut feeling again... and sure enough...
he was right: HIS COFFEE WAS COLD, and so was the night air.
He called out to the horses, “hey, I’m getting cold, now what am I
gonna do with a cup of cold coffee?”
The horses snorted back some kind of an unexplainable answer, which
basically amounted to the fact that they were ignoring him.
Aw, no matter, he smiled... Francie was warm in his heart.
He got up to stretch, folded his arms and began to rub them to keep warm as he stepped down into the yard. He walked away from the house, away from the full moon and gazed up into the heavens... more stars than he could number... many things I have come through he thought, more than I can number. He came back towards the porch and enjoyed the bright full moon in the crisp sky, took a deep breath of night air, stepped up on the wooden porch as he had earlier. Listening to his own boot steps on the wood, Jess went in to sleep. Morning would come with a nice warm new sunrise… and warm coffee.
The End