“GOLD MEANS SOMETHING
DIFFERENT TO EVERY MAN…”
CHAPTER ONE
THE LITTLE WOODEN BOX IN
THE TREE
Jess was
up on the hill where he first gave Ginny her ring.
It was a nice breezy hill and he remembered his first glimpse of the
Slim’s ranch, every time he came up here.
He had since learned, over the years, that he’d have the rustle of
grass playing with his ears, too—but not from the breeze. Seems Mike always took to following him up to this hill.
Jess had just climbed down out of the tree and was holding his precious
little wooden box. Mike had never seen it before, but he had heard Slim teasing
Jess about it on certain late-night talks.
Daisy and G inny had turned-in early on those men-talking nights, but
Slim tried to tease loud enough for them to hear—course Mike caught the drift
of it all, rightly said.
“Jess…
why does Slim think your little box is so funny? “
Mike moved up along side Jess now, and leaned over Jess’ shoulder, as
Jess sat there in the grass enjoying the breeze and lingering thoughts of the
box.
“Well
now, Mike… ‘ol Slim seems to think men-folk don’t need keep-sakes, I
reckon… but if you’ve seen that attic of his, I believe he’d be the first
to confess he’s a man of said-same sentiments.
He’s got a load of Sherman history up there Mike.
I just got this one tiny box… I’m starting out new, you might say.
Me and Ginny.” Jess smiled fondly, who’d of ever thought… Jess Harper
starting his own family… well, someday… we’re a might new at this, me and
Ginny. Think I got the mechanics of
all down pat, sure enough… but baby season ain’t come yet.
Jess laughed suddenly.
“Aww,
what’s so funny Jess?” Mike
perked up, and sat down to listen.
“Nothing…
nothing for little minds, okay, pard?” Jess
opened his box, and Mike’s eyes widened.
“You know… ‘ol Slim, once he swallows his pride for that Kitty, why
he’ll take to keeping treasure like mine… you just wait and see.
Then we’ll get him, Mike.” Jess
messed Mike’s hair, as signature-agreement on it, and took to caring for his
box again.
“Wow,
Jess… you really DO got treasure in there, huh!”
“Yep.”
Jess poured the contents out onto his bandana, kind of rough-like, as any
good cow-rancher would—kind of like spilling out some feed.
“Jess…?”
“Yeah,
Mike,” Jess looked up kind of
funny-like, “what is it Tiger? You
feeling all right? You look a mite
weak-kneed.”
“Well,
I sure understand about the gold coins… and I think I can understand about the
key, too… but ain’t that dirty old rice, and an old cork, and…” he
looked oddly at Jess, “and… well, ain’t that a dried-up rotten old apple
core?”
“Well,
yeah… yeah, you got good eyes, Mike.” Jess
went back to studying his riches. “I
was kind of trying to see which thing to surprise Ginny with.”
Jess looked up wryly, “ I reckon you don’t feel the apple core will
do it, huh?”
By now
Mike was a bit perplexed. He had
heard about Jess’ wild wedding day, and he heard about how it wasn’t the
long-range goal of most married men folk to spend their honeymoon in jail—why
he himself had even witnessed the wild day leading up to it.
At least part of it. Most
likely these were connected, as he knew darn well that Jess had been planning an
anniversary party at Mort’s for tomorrow.
It’d be right under Mort’s old apple tree. Mike surely understood that first year anniversaries were
always important, or so Daisy had always said. Least-wise with his schooling--and years back when he first
met Daisy, she continually celebrated the odd anniversary of him taking a bath
on their meeting-up day. He liked
that—it meant cake and cookies, and even pie.
“Is
this going to be a present Jess? I
think one of the two gold coins is more special.
It’s shiny and maybe she could buy something… maybe some candy.
They got new strawberry and horehound sticks in town, did you know that
Jess?”
Jess
picked up his treasure and started putting it back in the box, and it was then
that Mike noticed a small bit of white lace still in the box. Jess was keeping the old apple core in his hand extra long
before tucking it back in and locking up his treasure. Still wondering at the white lace, soft and fragile as it
was, Mike’s mind couldn’t let go of the dramatic switch to old apple.
He just KNEW Jess was going to come back for the apple.
Looked like thoughts of candy with Aunt Ginny would be out.
“So
it’s the rotten apple, Jess?”
“Yep,
Tiger, I reckon it is… it ain’t rotten, now… just dried hard like a mud
cake.”
“But
Jess, why… I don’t understand? Why,
if you think Slim’s been teasing you know, why, wait till he sees THAT ugly
thing!”
“Oh, he
won’t, Mike… this is just for me and Ginny… after the celebration.”
“Oh.”
Mike scratched his head a mite—seemed grown-ups did this when things
didn’t make sense. Jess jumped back
down from stashing his box and pulled him near:
“Mike,”
Jess started walking down the hill a ways, “you know, Tiger, sometimes things
that ain’t valuable to some folks, take on a whole new meaning to others.
And the valuable stuff, why you always know it means something, so
at times it’s good to take the other less-traveled trail, you see, pard?”
Mike
looked up happily at Jess, “oh, I see… kind’a.
Like going around the trees when we go to Laramie when the stage leaves
muddy ruts, right?” Mike looked
at Jess hard and long, “or it’s like being under arrest when you’re
supposed to walk down the aisle, right? Jess…
what really happened that day. All
I knew was that you were in jail, and that half the town was mad at you, and
Ginny’s ma and Daisy helped the wedding guest wait it out at the hotel.
It was PACKED that day, Jess, you should have seen it!
Talk was going on about how you were arrested for robbing a stage.”
“Yeah,
Jess sat down on a rock, “and I heard that some were ready to run me out of
town, too… to that Sheriff in Cheyenne… and not my old buddy either.
Daisy sure helped, huh, Tiger? Good
‘ol Daisy… yeah… she’s tried to rescue from jail, in the past, too…
did you know that?” Jess looked over at Mike, and took a deep sigh, “okay pard…
you’re growing up, and if I don’t tell you, some locals will spill the
bottle your way… it’s just a matter of time.
They’ll likely make a sorry mess of it, too.
Best you be hearing from me… most likely folks will be hooting and
hollering about it come party time, so I’ll be ahead of the game now. Well, now you see, it’s like this:
Jess
moved on back in time, as his little box, key and all, helped tell about
ill-gotten gold, and wedding hope, and Mort ‘s prized apple tree, and jail
cell with Jess’ name on it—even literally.
CHAPTER
TWO
ILL-GOTTEN
GAIN, CAN SURE MAKE A MAN ILL.
Jess had
done his chores for the week coming up, and then some.
The whole ranch had been alive and kicking, and coffee-drinking since
pre-sun-up, and had all moved on. Fine
time for cattle breaking loose, but it was done. He was supposed to be cleaning-up to get married, well, and
was dogged-out tired. He reckoned
at least he’d not have enough energy to get nervous—but just enough left, to
dance! Ginny had been at Mort’s
getting ready, with her mom by her side in the early morning only, and Daisy
there now. After all, her pa was
gone—dead—and Mort had taken her under his wing after all her visits to
Laramie, and the bride must NOT be seen by her man before the aisle-walking
time, so Mort’s place was their pick. Course
Jess didn’t fully see why he couldn't take a nice pre-peek, yet, he reckoned
right-about-now that it was so he wouldn’t get dirt on her dress, as he
moseyed on into the house to wash up. Slim
was sure to have some choice comments about his dirty old self--if Slim
was around--but he wasn’t. Jess
enjoyed his bath time alone, bolting up all the doors, as he had been the brunt
of enough Slim Sherman jokes as it was. Sweet
smelling bath water would be just too much for Slim.
By the times Slim showed up, it’d be his turn to bathe and
perhaps Jess could throw in a few sweet-bath-water-barbs of his own.
Turned out, it was not to be.
Jess had
readied up timely so, and strangely, Slim had not shown up. He was supposed to be helping Mort with the food and the yard
and all, but was long overdue to pick him up in the wagon.
Daisy would have his hide to beat-out with her rug beater if he rode his
horse in, dressed to marry. Slim
was to come around eleven-thirty for him--long before three o’clock and they
would warm-up with meeting the guest just before the four o’clock wedding
time. The guest in town, wouldn’t
meet up at Mort’s until about three thirty.
After thinking on all these time issues Jess was dad-burned hungry now,
as it was noon and then some. He
was very much tempted to ride his horse in when a heap of commotion pulled up outside the ranch door. Jess walked
out to great that commotion, as it was Mose.
“Say,
Mose, you best get into town and clean yourself up!
Daisy will get you if you mess up my wedding in them ‘ol trail duds and
that old hat!” Jess hollered out,
pointing up at him.
Mose
stared down at Jess with a sternness that Jess rarely ever saw, and Jess drew
nearer, stepping off the porch into the dirt.
Some
horse pulled up, and Jess peered around the stage, and just as he did, a man got
out, yelling, “that’s him! That’s
him! I’d know him anywhere!
He was the one! I bet if you ask him, why I JUST BET his name is Harper!”
Jess took
his stance, and stared up at Mose, and then at the Cheyenne Sheriff—or rather
his brother, the Sheriff on-call for this week.
Seems the regular one was in Denver.
“What’s
this all about Mose?” Jess had no
cause for to fear anything serious. Most
likely some fearful Easterner was thinking he was on some wanted poster seen
reprinted in some dime store magazine—easy enough set straight, as they were a
joke in these-here parts.
The
sheriff moved closer and pulled his gun as Jess pushed it away, and two men
jumped off their horses drawing more guns than a Harper could push-away on his
best day. Wedding days, seemingly
not being one. Jess felt a sick
thud in his jail-fearing stomach and made some fast futile thoughts as to how to
hunt his gun down, out of Daisy’s kitchen.
Seemed it was left near a right-fine piece of cold chicken.
“You’re
under arrest Harper. We’re taking
you to Cheyenne, so just freeze up there, and make like it’s winter, you
hear?”
“It
ain’t winter, mister, and you got THE WRONG man!”
Jess fumble a bit, and was ready to fight until an antsy deputy shot at
his boot.
“This
man can identify you, name and all… seems he even knew you were heading out
here, and we caught up with you just in time, too.
Now where’s the gold?”
Jess near
started laughing, if anything, near from shock—yet, this was not his ‘ol
buddy the Cheyenne sheriff that he has many times subbed for.
It was his nasty older brother, “now do I look like I got any gold on
me, Sheriff? Look at me, I’m
getting ready to get married, I’m due at Mort’s.
I’ve been here all day.”
“Say,
if you were, Jess, Slim can counter this man’s eye witness, I reckon.”
Mort eyed the ranch, and spied Slim’s horse gone, along with the wagon.
Jess had been here alone now, and he knew it.
“If!
Mose, what you mean, if… that man’s witness is wrong, and you know
it… you’ve always been in my corner. What
do you mean if?” Jess felt the
cuffs on him as he pulled
into position by the deputies. “I’m
getting married, you hear me! This
ain’t no time for games!” Jess
fought them back a bit, and stood tall, “take me to Mort, he’s gonna have
something to say about this. And
YOU mister… I don’t know who you are, or what your game is, but I ain’t
playin’ and you’re a sure-fired LIAR!”
“He was
in dirty old clothes, a pale blue shirt with a long rip on the right sleeve and
his boots were dirty, too, and one boot had a crooked heel… I saw it when he
rode-off with the bags… I bet if you search the house, you’ll find the
clothes, too… he must have hid the gold, right?
Wouldn’t you think so?” The
man stared at the sheriff and then up at Mose, who right now was feeling might
confused. Mose just shook his
head.
“It
ain’t what you think Mose… remember when they tried to pin me to shooting you
in the head? Remember… it was
Brynie and Doleman, and all… you knew it wasn’t me!
Look, my horse ain’t here! And
the others are out to pasture.” Jess
whirled around and stared cold at his accuser, “YEAH, I KNOW… YOU GOT AN
ANSWER FOR THAT TOO, DON’T YA’!”
Jess’
heart sunk and he choked back his rotten luck, the horse… so that’s why
that horse was wondering around in our hills… a stray, so I thought… and beaut he was, but he was rode hard… dad-gum… I’m
stuck now if they go hunting for it.
“He
took-off on bareback, really slick like, Sheriff… remember I told you,
remember?”
Jess
stared off across the field as the horse that had followed him through the hills
now started to mosey on up to the road, and Jess sighed hard.
The horse was shining brighter than the noon-day sun, and twice as hot.
“You
mean like that there horse, Mose stared in disbelief, “why he sure is a fine
horse… wouldn’t be surprised if he came from that nice spread mid-near
Cheyenne… why his owners would never par-“
Mose stopped and looked down at Jess, “I’m going for Mort, is that
alright with you Jess?”
“No it
ain’t alright… you just stay put, ‘til Slim comes, you hear me Mose!
They may be fixin’ to SHOOT me for all I know!”
“You
can stay put all you like, Mose, we’re taking him to Cheyenne.” The sheriff turned as his deputies called out from the
kitchen door:
“Say we
found the dirty clothes and we found the boot…look, just like he said, the
heels near ready to fall off… sleeves ripped too, see here.”
“I got
to go find Slim then, Jess.” Mose
shook his head again and now felt full of pain, he was looking forward to the
wedding, but not near as much as Jess surely was—he even had a new
gussied-up-type hat, and Jess would have been poking-fun at it all night, too.
“Yeah,
well I’m unarmed, so I best not be turning up dead, mister… as this time
there’s one truthful witness here, and that’s Mose.”
“Wonder
where the gold is, that’s the next questions, huh?
Well, when do we find it? I’m
from back East you know… and this is exciting to me! All my business trips have been so dull, but this is the wild
west now, and I can help save the day! My
wife will just love this… we’re from upper Victorian stock, you know, the
best bread and butter.”
“Yeah,
I just BET,” Jess glared at him.
“That’s
my job, mister… you said we’d find it with Harper here, and it
ain’t here, so we’ll just have to find out why, now won’t we,” the
sheriff huffed, and they began to haul Jess away, just as Slim started to drive
up, leading his horse, and Mose pulled back from taking off.
Slim road
in smooth and sure, yet at the moment, he sure didn’t have any smooth-sure
feeling, “say, Jess… I left you take a bath, and be ready for a wedding …
not to be plucked up by some lawman. What’s
going on?”
After
rehashing the story and revealing how Jess was seen robbing an overturned stage,
Slim pulled his high card, “this is Mort’s jurisdiction, and whether you
like it or not, Mort and your brother signed an agreement… no matter where the
law was broke, Mort keeps the prisoner in his territory first for all paperwork
for any charge brought against him… only then can you transport a prisoner.
You got no rights to take Jess.”
Jess near
thought he’d melt on the spot, freedom had come.
“We’re
taking him to Mort’s jail”
“Now
WAIT A MINUTE, AINT I GOT A SAY IN ALL THIS!”
Jess pulled back from Slim’s grasp.
“You
don’t want to go to Cheyenne, now do you Jess?
He’s willing… just look at him.”
“You
know dad –blamed well I don’t!” Jess stood tall again, “I’m aiming to
get married here Slim, in case you didn’t notice.”
“You’re
going to jail, Harper, that’s where you’re going, and you better take
notice… you’re going to Denver then!”
“Denver?”
they all chimed in (kind of deep-like and cow-bell like) and stared at the man.
“Yeah…
gold belongs to there… it was on route there.
They’ll want him bad, now.” The
accuser spoke up.
“Yeah,
well, just how do you know all this?” Slim
stared at him.
“I… I
just know… I... I heard Harper saying it… he said he had a hankering for
some good Federal gold to get him to San Francisco cause he was getting married,
and only the best would do.”
The two
guards busted-up laughing ‘til they near thought they’d fall over,
And with
that last remark Jess had finally had enough, and lunged at the man.
Next thing he knew he woke up behind bars, hearing the words:
“Ill-gotten
gain can get a hold of even the best of men, Slim… it’s going take some
convincing to prove otherwise, with such an eye witness account as this.
Federal gold, huh… well, I can sure say this, when Jess gets in
trouble, the best of it is right on his heels.”
Mort’s words were ringing in Jess’ ringing head, and wedding bells
didn’t seem to be ringing at all. He
sure felt ill, needless to say. Ill-gotteningly,
so.
CHAPTER
THREE
MEANWHILE,
BACK AT THE SHERIFF’S
“Daisy,
where’s Slim and Mort heading off to? Didn’t
Slim go to fetch Jess? Should I
stay in here hiding, or not?” Ginny
was peeking out from the side room of Mort’s guest room.
She had been watching Mort and his nephew cooking, being that Slim had
left. Yet, Slim had resurfaced and
took off with Mort, just as the stage rambled by, farther out along the
roadside. Mort didn’t live far
from town, and the stage always passed by. She
had just caught a glimpse of it, and Mort and Slim seemed to earnestly pursue
it. Her pa being an ex-law
man, she understood the need for a job well done, more so than a roast beef
well-done. Yet, there was only one
lone young man helping out with a yard full of straggling preparations left.
Daisy
looked at her with a glinted, hinted, tinted and not freshly-minted construction
upon her face—she was over-heated
from worry, it appeared.
Ginny’s
lilted voice sang out softly, “now, Daisy… I’m the bride, I should
feel flustered a bit, not you.” She
took her hand, and was surprised to find that Daisy grabbed for it with deeper
worry than she had at first let on. “Daisy?”
Ginny waited, and Daisy sat on the bed.
Ginny
walked to window, wondering if there was a clue in the yard, and she now saw
Mike helping with the yard-fixings, he a lot taller now, and was working as well
as adult. Obviously now, Slim and
Mort wouldn’t be here soon, and her groom was missing.
Yet, if Jess was hurt, they would have told her straight-up, and taken
her to him, this she knew. She had
been through hard times and bad wounds of her owns.
Yet still, something was ominously wrong, and it didn’t take a good
bird dog to sniff it out—specially with Daisy calling out to her now:
“Did
you hear me Ginny?” But that’s
all I heard.” She sighed heavy,
before she stood and joined Ginny at the window.
“Jess
hasn’t been accused of anything like this in a long time Daisy… he was just
saying to me the other day, how good it feels to have his past finally
mowed-down like hay, ready to do good.” She
turned and looked down at her wedding dress and pictured Jess’ happy face as
it must have been earlier. She knew
he was just aching to get the burden of walking down the aisle over with, so he
could smile-out at all his friends, and present the new Mrs. Harper.
Mike was near a teen age boy—seemed the long courtship had turned Mike
into a young man and Jess into a ready and able one.
“Does Mike know?”
“Yes,
he was mighty upset when Mort and Slim took off, but he’s holding up good now.
He knows Jess would never go robbing folks… and surely not on his
wedding day, seeing as he finally stepped into the stream.
Jess has gone through far too many stage accidents and spoke of the harm
its done folks… why, he’d never dare to set up a stage robbery and set
trails to overturn them. He’s not
one to turn bad for gold, Ginny… not for even one tiny piece!”
“I best
get to town Daisy… Jess will be expecting that I be by his side, as a good
wife should… even though I haven’t sealed it, mind you.” She began to take off her veil, when Daisy stopped her.
“No…
no dear, Jess doesn’t want you in town… you see, it’d be like a signal of
defeat to him. Oh, he wants you by
side, all right, but he said he’s marrying you somehow at four o’clock, even
if he has to have Mort drag him out here to look for his “stolen” gold and
throw the wedding vows in as an extra. I
was out there, and I heard it all from Slim.
Mort said he’ll have it out with the accuser and the Cheyenne Sheriff
until he gets to the bottom of all this. If
they don’t make headway by at least three… I don’t know what to expect…
and then the guest will be showing at four, unless Mort goes to the hotel and
stops them all. You know my dear,
this could drag on for weeks, or months… I didn’t realize it until just now. Some of the folks have traveled so far to come see Jess,
too.”
“Daisy,
if he doesn’t show at four, I will go and marry him in the jail, whether he
likes it or not… I can be just as determined, and right now, my determination
will have more chance of success.” She
looked out the window one last time--realizing that Jess had just passed by as a
prisoner of the law, in the stage, seemed just too hard to bare suddenly.
“Yes… he will come, and if he can’t, I will go to him.
Yet, I will abide by his wishes, first.
When I first met up with him, that’s how it was, Daisy.
He was hurt and his thoughts were to help me drink water… back when I
was blind. And then again… when
he was ready to leave my father’s hideout, his concern instead, turned to me.
And, now… he’s in serious trouble on his wedding day, and his concern
is to be here for me. I dare not go to him. You
see, Daisy… I trust him and his decisions.”
The two
women folks stood there as all the aspects of Jess Harper surfaced in their
minds. Daisy finally started work
on Ginny’s hair, piling up a nice surprise of quite-fetching soft-pinned-up
curls, in ways that Jess had not yet seen.
It would make a nice framework for his lovely bride.
The outcome of the day, still remained to be seen—hopefully viewing
curls and guests would be his reward. But
for now, Jess Harper was being framed by some far-from-fetching framework of his
own and pinned-up in a nasty way. He
was in jail once again--the walls were closing in laughing at him, and sure as
shooting, he was not liking it one bit. Sure as shooting, he was itching to get out.
CHAPTER
FOUR
“I
DON’T TAKE TO JAILS, NONE… ”
Jess was
pacing, and Mort and the Cheyenne sheriff, nasty ‘ol Bill, were arguing, and
Slim was studying Jess and the eye
witness—Shorty Mackintosh. A bad
apple if ever Slim saw one. The man
had suddenly become very uncomfortable, and so had Jess. Jess had an obvious reason why, but why had Shorty, Slim
wondered. His story was foolproof,
so far. Mort finally let Shorty go
to the hotel to rent a room; he had to stay ‘til tomorrow when Mort would take
Jess to Cheyenne with Bill. Yep,
Bill, like it or not, would have to wait. Mort
had decided to take Jess, prisoner though he was, and make a married man out of
him. Paperwork was done and Shorty
had sworn-out his testimony against Jess, and now they would all have to do it
in Cheyenne for the sheriff--all over again.
The two undercover men that were moving the gold were waiting there.
Yet, seems they weren’t sure exactly where the stage driver was,
as he claimed to have injuries that needed care.
Jess would then have to be taken to Denver, so to satisfy the Federal man
and his superiors, and then they’d all make more complaints there, and he’d
have to wait for a trial. Sure, Jess would miss a honeymoon tonight, and who knew for how
long it would be stalled--but at least Mort reckoned, Jess would have
reached one of today’s goals—he’d have a wife.
Nasty old
Bill, as he was unfondly known, sat back listening to Mort and Slim rehash more
details now that Shorty was gone, and Jess had to settle for news at the
bar—one that he picked out to lean on. There
were no drinks being served, and the nature of this
bar was more for face-leaning, than elbow-leaning.
“You
know Mort, Shorty is in an awful hurry to push us to get Jess to Cheyenne… and
that’s just so ‘ol Bill over there can send him right-quick to Denver.
Right Bill? You’re not
fooling us… you want to look good for that Federal man.
Your brother can vouch for Jess failing into all kinds of odd trouble…
Jess just has a knack for it at times cause of past history and connections and
such… that’s all this is, and I’m going to prove it.
He’s not going to Denver, we all know he’ll be stuck there for
months, if he ends up there.”
“Now,
Slim… I said I’d let Jess marry-up today… but if we have to take him to
Denver, then so be it.”
“Look
Mort, the whole things a lie and you know it… most likely that
supposedly-injured stage driver, or that man Shorty, or maybe even the two
undercover men taking that gold to Denver, had something to do with it.
Only another stage driver would have known that Mose didn’t have a
round to make, and was heading back this way to help witness the remains of
their story. He was the one that
found the mess and helped them all back to town and got the Sheriff.
Maybe Shorty was never even in the coach at first during that robbery… maybe he was the one
on the bareback horse… and then that meant that either the rider were in on
it, or the driver.” Slim turned from Mort and sat on his desk corner and looked
at Bill. “So the driver told the
Federal riders to ride along side, instead of in the coach… and all cause Shorty had a
bad back pain… and the riders stated to you that they saw him in there
sleeping to relieve his pain…and
they never saw his face, but that just proves my point… it could have been
blankets, right? A judge will push
for that you know.”
“Yeah,
I know… and a judge will push about Harper’s clothes and boots and all,
too… so what? Just be glad Harper
didn’t kill any of them, Sherman.”
“Oh,
that never would have happened, Sheriff… you see… whoever was on that horse
robbing, would not want witness, and could have killed them… but not if it was
Shorty… he’d have to have witnesses to agree with the lie he’s made up,
and who better than the men he was robbing… and if Shorty himself was on that
horse, and not in the coach who would ever know?
The driver fell over the edge when the stage coach went off the road
edge, right? And the gunman made
his move to shoot at and the riders… forced them down, but they never saw the
shooter or had a good look at his clothes… but they did see that he was well
in view of the turned coach… and anyone inside could see him…and they could
witness to that much in court. But
not if they were dead… so Shorty, being the shooter, couldn’t afford to kill
anyone. You get it now?
If Jess was the shooter and he really wanted that gold to move off to San
Francisco as Shorty claimed…. I don’t think Jess would leave any witnesses
around to pull him over while he sits back at his wedding party celebrating. Federal money can bring a lot longer sentence than a local
bank robber and you know. Then
too… if Jess was stuck in Denver with all this going on, whoever really took
the gold, could be long gone into Canada, by the time Jess was cleared.
No… Shorty’s setting this up somehow… he just picked the wrong man
to do it too… and if we get him to crack, we’ll find out why the big push is
to get Jess into Denver.”
“Say,
Slim… look at this,” Mort pulled out some papers from his desk, “speaking
of Federal money… Denver wired me months ago that for the last year, similar
robberies have been going on down through Colorado… and they’ve finally
collected all the tie-in information. Seems
its all done by some lone rider. It
appears that they’re heading up to Canada, too… most likely they want to pin
it on someone now, and get them sent into Denver, so they can cross over now.
Things are getting too hot for them to continue and the Feds are wanting
to come down hard. They’ll be watching the border, ‘til they have someone
arrested. They claim it’s not
going to be pretty when they get hold of them.”
“Let me
see that… you guys are just making this up so I don’t take Harper today!” Bill
crossed over and grabbed the papers in disgust.
“Seems everybody thinks my brother does a better job than me… damn it
anyway!”
“Yeah…
and I’m of them everybodies,” Jess yelled out at him.
After
looking at the papers a bit, Bill said, “yeah… well, maybe Harper’s been
the one doing this all along… he goes on buying trips to Colorado… my
brother even had him in jail over something similar!
Heard-tell, he’s got a trail of jails, and all leading back to
Laramie!”
“Which
ought to say something, if you’d just stop and think… Jess was cleared,
Bill, remember? … and of course
any trails he’s got, lead to back here… he LIVES just out of town… now get
your head straight, man ,” Mort
waved the papers in front of him, “and besides, whoever did this has to be a
traveling man, not a Laramie man… like Shorty, perhaps… didn’t he say he
was from back East? Maybe he has relative out here… maybe one of them
undercover men, or maybe the stage driver.
I’m willing to side with Slim, someone pretended Shorty was on that
stage… or let him slip off somewhere near to where that horse was stolen.”
“Yeah…
yeah, Mort, and that would be near enough for Shorty to be hanging out spying on
Jess… how else would he know about his boots… and then, say… the horse was
left there too… he must have had his own around out there somewhere. How else would he get back in time? I think we need to have another talk with Shorty, and in this
office.”
“You
know, Slim, you’re right… if we do this later, there just might not BE a
later.”
“Yeah,
will why is that,” Bill wondered now, as he was starting to get caught up in
the mechanics of it all now, and Slim gladly filled his ear:
“Because,
Bill… don’t you see… once he signs his papers and shows us how loyal and
law-abiding he is, and we take Jess off to Denver, he can skip off to Canada…
he’ll say he’ll show up and be at the trial, but he won’t. Jess will be in a big enough mess by then, it won’t matter
the witness is missing… by then, they’ll still be pushing to see if they can
pin this on him since the two undercover men signed against him, too… that
will give Shorty and whoever, plenty of time to leave with the gold.
They’ll still be figuring Jess has it… and they’ll be hounding him
for it, or lock him till he confesses to where he stashed it.
Sounds like hard labor, to me… that’s the best way to try and break a
man. The border will be unwatched, you see?”
“Will
you stop jawing out there, and get me out of here… seems like you got the
cause solved to me… now get me out of here and let’s have at him, Slim.”
Jess paced the cell rubbing his hands, and favoring his right hand,
cradling it, and even licked it once or twice.
“Jess,
we don’t have any proof on this… this is how it looks to us. Do you know how long it could take to prove this boy?”
Mort walked up to him, “you could end up in Denver for quite a spell,
son. Either way, you’re in a lot
of trouble.”
Slim
started a slow approach to Jess’ cell, “Jess… I know you don’t take to
jails, and to tell you the truth, neither, do I… but caged mountain lion or
not, you sure are behaving like
one… you licking your paws clean, or what, pard?
Seems like you got fleas, too.”
“Slim,
I’m itching to get out of here, is what it is… and my hand, well, look at
it… its all swollen… and full of stickers or something… I was pulling
‘ol Emily out of the brambles and… and that’s it Slim… look…look at
me… my hands been like this all morning from the stickers, but now its
worse… its red, too… look at this sheriff, you saw it when you handcuffed
me… I couldn’t have held on to a horse bareback like this, now could I?”
Jess smirked as new light dawned, “say, now…why only a jack-ass
would believe something like that.” Jess
rubbed his arms so bad, that he took off his wedding coat and tossed it aside in
disgust. “And I’ll tell you
another thing, only a jack-ass will drag me into Denver.”
“I’ll
go get the doc to look at it for you, Jess… say, Mort’s going to take you to
get married at near abouts four… did you hear, that ought to make you feel a
little better right? You sure
picked a hard day to get married on, Jess… who would have known, huh?”
“Slim…
I ain’t in the mood… I don’t take to jails, none… you just said so
yourself… and I’m just itching like a dad-gum old hunting dog.”
“Yeah,
I know… you’re itching to get out and solve this, I don’t blame you…
well, its just about another hour now, and we’ll get you to the wedding, at
least… the guest will most likely start following us over, too.
But as to any solving, you’ll have to leave that up to us.”
Slim watched Jess lay back on the bunk, as he started rolling his arms
around on the mattress, “say, you really are itching, aren’t you, pard.”
“I been
trying to tell you, Slim… you hard of hearing, or something?” Jess got up annoyed, “my hand is aching a mean streak, too,
and you all best be taking notes,” Jess peered out the bars at Bill.
“Okay,
so I ain’t up to cream-of-the-crop like my brother…” Bill defied him, “I
can throw steers down, and run a trail drive and ride the range through rain or
drought… so what you got to say about that, Harper?”
Bill loomed over at him, just loving the upper-hand.
“Mister,
you don’t want to KNOW what I got to say about it, got that!” Jess glared at him and went back to nursing his hand.
“You
know what else, Harper?”
“What,”
Jess snapped back, without even bothering to acknowledge a face-off.
“You
got a bad case of poison ivy boy!”
Bill laughed, “you must have been playing in it to get it THAT BAD…
you best not be touching your face, or you’ll make a more pitiful groom that
you will in handcuffs.”
“Well,
that can’t be… I ain’t been out in the field since I was working with the
cows… just like I said…that’s what I was doing all morning… and then I
took a nice long hot bath.”
“Say,
Jess,” Slim called out as he went
for the doc, “you were off working by ‘ol Sammy’s place… he’s got huge
patches of it all around the far hills of his place, and he’s one choice
patch of it right there in the wild berries… remember I warned you and Mike
about it last year? You
don’t get it right away, Jess… it breaks out a few hours later… say, my ma
always said hot water will make spread.”
“You’re
making me feel real good, right about now, Slim,” Jess tried to
remember what freedom tasted like--back when he had that nice long hot bath, and
no robbery breathing down his neck, or, folks spouting-off about things
their ma always said. Yep,
by his own handy hands, it looked like jail time was twice as bad now.
It could
it be that he was wrong, though:
“Well,
then,” Mort smiled, “there’s some proof right there… there’s no way
Jess could have been off robbing that stage if he was moving cows and fixing the
fence after, no matter what a so-called witness says… he was getting poison
ivy all day… I saw his hand at sun-up when he brought Ginny out, and so did my
nephew, and Daisy… and even the local parson… he was out having coffee. And you can’t reason that Jess planned to go out and
soak it up, either, as it’d be too much ground to cover, no
matter what order it could have been done in… to Sam’s, the horse
ranch, the stage robbery, and then back to the Slim’s.
He’d have needed near as much time as the stage did to get back to
Cheyenne and then reach Slim’s ranch… and THAT being the case, he’d have
met up with his accusers still in robbery clothes, sweating, and late to
meeting! There’s your proof
Jess.”
Jess
jumped up, “then I’m out of here, right?”
“Whoa,
not so fast… I can’t do that yet. We’ve
already wired Denver, and we’ve got to take you there, unless of course we
have someone else to deliver to them instead.
There’s no way I’m getting on their bad side, Jess.
They’ll want all this vouched for in court… now if Bill here hadn’t
pressed us into wiring them,” Mort glared at him, “then we just might have
slipped by here, as you’ve my upstanding deputy for all these years.”
“Look,
don’t crowd me on that Mort… I just saved his hide and you said it… now
I’m willing to go out looking for any leads you got any ideas on, if that will
help.”
“Go
on… start with Shorty… be my guest… and then start finding out more about
your stage driver… he’s done stage driving to Colorado, you said, right? Sounds like he could have had some history moving about
through just about any town there, to suit his choosing. Now, as for us, I’m
taking our prisoner off to lose his freedom of another kind,” Mort winked at
Jess, just as the doc stepped in, and Bill slipped out.
CHAPTER
FIVE
“TRUST
IS A FIVE LETTER WORD…”
“Ginny!
Daisy! Come quick… look!
They got Jess! He’s here!
He’s locked up like a prisoner, but they got Jess… come see Aunt
Daisy! Come see!”
Mike came barging in past Mort’s nephew, as the gals came a running.
“Mort
was yelling for me to tell you,” he caught his breath, “the weddings on
now!”
“So the
guest are coming, still… right? Or
is this private, and Jess has to go back?”
“Oh,
Mort’s taking him to Cheyenne after, Daisy… its really awful, huh? He won’t get to have the party with us, either… unless
nas-… I mean, unless old Bill finds out who took the gold.”
“That’s
okay, Mike… I thank you kindly…” Ginny gave him a hug, “right now, I’m
sure if we walk through this, the end will someone turn to our favor.
I never thought I’d see again, and now I do.
This may not look right to us, now… but in the end, we will see more
good than harm, you just remember that, you hear?
We got our prayer, you see” Ginny
smiled, and Mike watched her, as she set about getting herself ready to walk
Mort’s yard, to be there for Jess:
She had
learned to do this anchored-patience well, and a smile had upheld her many a
time. It was just a soft fond
smile, given for each day that passed through her darkness—back when she
couldn’t see—but it was a firmly rooted, sincere smile, and it was in
Jess’ corner now, doing the work that he had come to first witness, when she
first gracefully caught his eye. She
was different, and that was a fact. She
was different, not because she was blind, but she was different because she saw. She saw how to wait and see things through, and she had
learned to hear the song of hope through the trees of dark shadows.
She saw how to mine gold from hard facts of life.
She was getting ready to go out and mine some gold now, while her man was
getting ready to face the guest of his wedding, as a man not desiring the gold
that taunted and tempted men, but desiring the gold of a man’s conscience
being clean.
Mort set
Jess down at the make-shift wooden stage, the one for his marriage floor and
first dance. Jess stretched his legs out and wished to high heaven that his
hands were free to scratch. Seemed
the doc’s ointment was wearing off--he now regretted that he had no patience
to fully be doctored-up. He vowed
he’d never tell another scratching hound-dog joke again—even though Mike
always got a good laugh from them, he’d pick up some new cat jokes, he
reckoned, as he now watched Mort’s cat trying to uncover some of the roast,
now finally done cooking. The yard looked wonderful and it was all for him.
The decorations abounded. He
near felt like crying. This was not
how he had planned it at all. Right
about now, he was to be standing up there with Slim, and they would be
reminiscing as the guest would be coming in and greeting them.
Instead, Slim was up greeting the few early guest, some of their closest
friends, Steve Rhodes and his wife was there, and even Branch McGary and Reb
Carlton had just rode in, and Slim was giving them the full low down, as to how
low Jess was feeling, and why. These
few guest began taking their seats, to chat, as the others from town wouldn’t
be arriving for another hour. Mort
helped Jess up to the podium and the preacher John Holby came to start the small
family service before all the guest arrived, his wife by his side, watching--and
“Mac and Reb talked to Jess. All
too bad-timingly-set, just as his whole day had been, there came a loud ruckus and
some yelling. Yep, just as Jess
figured, his wedding was back on the threshing floor of future dreams—one long
hard chore with no milled flour in sight, let alone the fresh baked smell of
success.
“Mort,
Slim! WE GOT THEM ON THE RUN!”
Sheriff Bill pulled his horse up, and his two deputies--at his side since
Mort’s office--pulled up as well.
Slim took
hold of Jess, and they ran up to Bill, with Mort in the lead, as the few guest
started-up their own commotion, shifting in their seats, and watching the new
unexpected scene. As they made
their horses ready, they listened:
“Yeah…
I started to think this poison ivy bit over… and what Slim had said… well, I
got over there to the hotel and set to talk to Shorty about what a great citizen
he was to do all this and help us find Harper, and sure enough, the guy was
itching. I figured he had to be…
and all because of Jess’ boots. If
you all were so dang sure that this was a set-up, then someone had to be spying
on Jess. They had to be close
enough to know what he wore, right down to the boot and all, or at least had a
spying glass to use… anything to identify him.
He was in the another poison ivy patch.
I didn’t let on right away, but when I did, he started to bribe me with
some of the gold… course he only had TWO pieces and promised to led me to the
rest... the two he had were to plant on Jess’ clothes when we showed up to
arrest him… but Slim showed up before he could get close enough to do it.
He gave us the slip, when his brother saw us heading to the jail… he
and someone… don’t know who… started shooting from the alley… you’re
deputy and two men from town, are ahead of us.
We figured we need your help, too. If
we get them tonight, we can wire the Federals,” he winked at Jess, “I’m
trying, boy… really, I am.” He
handed the two gold coins to Slim.
“All
right folks, the weddings off for a few hours… go on back into town, and Daisy
will take care of you. Daisy, let
everyone in town know that we’ll be postponing this until we get back.
John, how about you and your wife trying to get some of them folks to
praying… sure couldn’t hurt… we don’t need anyone shot-up on Jess’s
wedding day… come-on Slim… my nephew can take Jess back to jail.”
“Jail!”
Jess looked Mort in disbelief, “jail?
What kind of talk is that? I’m
going too!”
“Oh, no
you’re not… grooms don’t need to play target’s bull’s-eye on their
wedding day.” Mort stated as a
father.
“I’m
not setting foot in that jail, unless you drag me Mort… now are you game for
it?” Jess readied himself, and
waited.
“No…
actually, I’m too busy wanting to take-down Shorty, and having someone to hand
over after I send a new wire to those Federal men, if you catch my drift,
Jess.” Mort lowered his voice, a
tad, “now we’re wasting time… and I reckon on second thought, I can’t
put my nephew in charge of you, so I might as well do it myself… get going
Slim, I’ll have to meet up with you later,” he sighed.
“No you
don’t Mort… we need all the hands we can get… look Branch and McGary are
already taking off… say,” Slim’s eyes lit up after surveying the yard, “
we’ll handcuff him to your apple tree over there… it’s just the
right size.” Slim grabbed hold of
Jess, as Jess balked like a good strong mule tends to balk, during unplanned
pressed-upon personal travel time. Mort helped Slim, and together they latched
Jess to the tree. Minus Jess’
spurs on his wedding day, Slim felt more confident that Jess wouldn’t be
rooting up Mort’s yard, but just in case, Slim eyed Jess with a firm practical
stance, saying:
“Trust
me.” Slim put the two coins in
Jess’ wedding coat. “We’ve come as far as these two gold coins, so far,
right?”
“Trust,
you… I should be going too… I don’t see any trust… you didn’t trust
me, that night with Sam Jarrod when you hooked me up with that tree.”
“And
you didn’t trust me to take care of you, either.
And you didn’t trust me when you had to give me your canteen of
water that time I took-off after that fugitive… remember?
But you gave me your water anyway… even though you knew it
would allow me to be fool-enough to
go it alone, and you could have just as well kept it for you needs.
I had to do what I had to do, Jess… just like you did, when you took
off that night from Sam Jarrod. Now
stay put this time… and give me some water-benefit, okay… I can get the job
done, just like I did then. I
don’t want to see you shot-up today, okay, and that’s what can happen on a
posse-hunt and you know it.”
Jess
looked up and near pleaded, “Slim, it’s MY wedding day… mine, and not any
body else’s… and so far I’ve not gotten to do one blasted thing I
planned… all I got out of this was a dance with ‘ol Emily in the poison ivy
patch, and accused of gold-stealing, and thrown in Mort’s jail… now does
that sound like fun, to you?”
“No,
Jess… I reckon not. But don’t
get any ideas while I’m gone, okay pard?”
Slim looked over at Mort, “say Mort, I’ve heard that this apple tree
is a mighty fine prize of yours… best apples in all of Laramie, right?”
Mort
leaned back from their “mule” chore, and answered, “yeah… what are you
driving at Slim… lets get moving.”
“Oh,
nothing, Mort…. Nothing.” Slim
saddled up, and yelled out across the yard, “Jess used to be a mighty fine
digging-critter in his day… could ruin a tree in a good few hours… what
would happen if something bad should befall your apple tree
Mort, bet you’d be mighty mad huh?”
Mort
pulled back on his reins, and stopped hard, and glared over at Jess, “if
anything happens to that apple tree, young man… there’s no place big enough
for you to hide, you hear? Don’t
test me son… I’d hate have you end up in Denver, after all this trouble
we’re going to just to rescue you. This
isn’t a knocked-out tooth from a punch in the jaw, now… you understand,
young man? That apple tree was my
MOTHER’S before she died.”
With
Mort’s words ring in Jess’s ears, and Slim’s smirking, irking his very
soul, and his wedding guest leaving with Daisy and the nephew, Johnny, running
into the house to sit with his wife and their new infant, Jess watched his
wedding day fall apart once more. Seemed
it was blown away with the dust of those that had left.
He pulled at the apple tree a few times and studied the tree with escape
in mind. Mort’s yard was firm
hard grassy ground around the tree, and he had no spurs, like in Colorado when
Slim tried the same lock-down trick. Escape
wouldn’t work this time, and Jess knew it—and even if it had—he’d risk
loosing one of the best friends he ever had.
One that was like a father and big brother all rolled into one.
He
wasn’t in jail, but this was a lot more embarrassing, and he was right-glad
the few guest had left. He knew for
a fact that Mort’s nephew wouldn’t be out, for fear of being conned by Jess. He’d be spending his yard-time alone, so he figured.
But--he hadn’t reckoned on Ginny showing up.
She had been in the back room with Mort’s nephew’s wife.
Ginny was running out Mort’s door now, calling out to them. She had caught up with Mort and Slim just as they were ready
to make their own dust. Slim gave
her a hug from his horse, as best he could, and told her Jess would explain it
all they were pressed for time.
Ginny
turned to face the lovely decorated yard, and the moderately small, yet lovely
apple tree, and the groom latched to its trunk.
It was quite a sight to behold, and she reckoned she’d never see the
likes of it again. This was her
wedding day, and so far, she had not had anything go as planned—for her
unfortunate groom, that is. She had
been waiting it all out in the house, as was planned, and her part had gone down
well--if she could but pretend that Jess had no troubles.
It was her turn to join in and help her man now—the impact of the
unplanned schedule was now seen, instead of heard of only, from her stance.
Seeing, was at times new to her. Yet,
facing trouble, was not.
Jess
watched his lovely bride in her white fine dress, framed with the now fading
dust cloud, as she approached him, with grace.
He felt like a bad dog banned to the dog house, yet he had done no wrong.
He wasn’t perfectly sure, but somehow it seemed to him that this was
not the way the groom was to encounter his awaiting bride.
He stood watching with his arms full of tree, yet, with enough room from
the medium-small yet firm trunk, not to be in
pain at his wrist. His heart
was in pain, but that was deep within, even like the roots of the apple tree
that he appeared to be half-hugging.
“Jess,
I’m so sorry, it looks like I’ve ruined my surprise for you. You’re supposed to wait ‘til the wedding, but I didn’t
know you were still here… I thought they had someone take you into town.
Why did they put you here, Jess?
And… what did Slim mean when he said you are quite some tree
farmer?” She stood before him
now, and pushed his hair out of his face, and was near afraid to move anymore,
as if she would loose the special sparkle of being seen in her bridal gown,
before the long-awaited event. No
matter, she had to finally accept—the harm was done.
It was truly a minor harm as compared to the day’s unfair fair.
“Ginny…
they’ve been telling you about what happened, right?”
Jess searched her face.
“Yes,
Jess… yes they did. Daisy helped
me… as you know, Mother is in town watching her sister… she’s not well,
she had pneumonia last year. No one
really believes you took that gold, Jess. You’ll
see… the town’s folk naturally believe the law men first, as that’s their
duty, to bring in offenders… and most likely they were just shocked to see you
brought in, was all. Having an eye
witness, didn’t help, either. But
blind eyes can see truth, even as my blind eyes did the shocking wonder of truly
seeing, when all hope was gone. I
hope you can forgive them, Jess… remember, many of them have seen
and heard of lawmen going bad… look at me… my own father went bad,
Jess.”
“You
know, Ginny… that’s what I love about you.
You just got a kind heart.” He
looked down at the tree that he was stuck too, and then followed the trail of
her white dress as it sparkled in the sun, and then looked fully into her face.
He couldn’t picture himself asking her for a saw, he reckoned, so he
held his peace. Yet his heart could
only hold so much and poured some out, “sometimes, Gin…times like this... I
feel like a trapped wounded animal… you know?
I’ve been fighting mad at times, too… yet, not this time.
I mean I was… but now, seeing you, I’m not.
I’m just tired of thinking on my day’s sorry journey… and my arms
are itching like all get-out.”
Jess
shifted his weight around the tree and tried rubbing his arms for relief.
He filled Ginny in on the whole story, as they sat alone in the yard, in
the shade of the old apple tree. Mort
had trimmed it often, and its growth was stunted some, yet, it was graceful and
beautiful, on the smaller side than some--but truly said, it had the best apples
in all of Laramie. Jess had to
prove that it had even better fruit now, as he cheated and kissed his
bride-to-be, early. They both
agreed, this was wonderful fruit, just a bit better than Mort’s apples.
“Jess,
trust me… we’ll look back on this someday.”
She walked around the yard, and studied it.
She loved to study sights, as she had missed them for so very long.
She tried to glean in as much thought from their day here and now, as she
could, and she channeled it back out to Jess.
“Trust
is just a word, Ginny, and I don’t know how I feel about it right about
now,” Jess sulked as he pulled at the tree hoping that it would magically snap
like the fresh apples that he has bitten into from this very tree.
“Yes,
Jess… but it’s a five letter word… a FIVE letter word,”
she unfolded to him, with the soft lilt that he loved.
He watched her hair shine in the light—as every so often there was a
special glow from hitting her sequined veil, least-wise, he reckoned.
“Now
just what’s that supposed to mean?”
She made
a first, “ now Jess, my father always said… before he went to out-lawing,
that trust was a five letter word, and he’d make a fist.
Just like this, saying, ‘A man trust another man not to use these five
clenched fingers, you see, Ginny dear? When
a man can do that with another man, he has a true friend.’
Then he’d say, ‘trust is five letter word Ginny…’” she came
back, near to Jess’ side, “then he’d hold out his hand to me, and say,
‘trust is a five letter word, Ginny… a man trust another man, as he holds
out these five open fingers in friendship… when he can do that, and it comes
back to him, he’s found a true friend.’”
She
reached for Jess’ arms around the tree and helped him scoot down around it to
sit. Ginny picked a few apples and
they shared a four o’clock wedding apple—minus the wedding, as Jess
professed his vows to her anyways, and she did so in return.
They toasted a salute with Mort’s fancy imported wine, and Ginny picked
flowers from the yard, as she hummed a soft humble song, and Jess soaked it in,
unable to be with his “wife”. She
joined him soon with her bouquet from Mort’s yard—the one inside, was for
their true wedding vows, which she vowed to save them for.
She threw a bit of rice on them, and they smiled like innocent kids at
play. After they sat together for
quite a long silent spell, and had watched just about as many clouds as they
could for the day, Jess spoke up:
“Slim
and I know all about that five letter word, Ginny… in both those ways, and
rightly said… trust is a five letter word.
Now I understand.”
CHAPTER
SIX
BY
THE STRIPES OF THE JAIL-BAR NIGHT
It was
evening, just before sunset when Mort got back.
Shorty’s brother was shot dead, and Shorty gave up.
Seems the brother was the stage driver all right, and he had another
buddy, innocent of the robbery, that was just got caught-up in the works of
protecting a so-called friend in need. Sheriff
Bill took them to Cheyenne. Seems
Jess wouldn’t be making that trip, nor the Denver trip, and seems Jess was a
mighty happy groom. He was still in
handcuff custody, as Mort still had to get a wire from the Federal men that Jess
was officially released from their Denver warrant and the new culprit was
accepted. Bill had wired them and
so did Mort, but no answer had come yet, as they were all busting at the seams
for a wedding here. Mort was happy
to see his tree was safe, and Slim had promised to tell the story once Mort was
able to view his precious tree upon arrival back at the yard—Slim figured Mort
had enough on is mind without destructive tree stories.
It would have been too much of a strain for Mort to hear such a story,
fully envisioning where had just left Jess, truly said.
Jess and
Ginny took their vows just before the last rays of sun left them, as Slim kept
staring at Ginny’s hair. Jess
slipped his cuffed arms around his bride and they shared their fist dance, and
then both shared dollar dances. Mort
had full confidence that his prisoner was not going anywhere—not so much as it
being a matter of trust, but he had his deputies by Jess’ side the whole night, along with Slim, “Mac”
and Reb. Jess at this point was
just mighty thankful not be in the Cheyenne jail awaiting transport, and that
the evening turned to be the wedding he had hoped it was—and more so--as he
heard from each friend, a different story of how they had all had come to know
about Jess Harper and his feeling towards gold.
Roy Holleran and his wife Martha had much to say, and so did Steve Rhodes
and his wife, Ann. Jess’ name was
shining fine and bright, clear up to the evening honeymoon when the yard finally
cleared out and the folks went on into town.
When Jess
and the Sherman ranch family and friends arrived at the telegraph office, for
hopeful news, the night took on its rabbit trail.
Oh, there was a lovely telegraphed wire from his sister Francie, and one
from Andy (while out on a newspaper assignment for a writing class back East),
but nothing else had come, and Jess found himself facing a jail cell with his
name on it. Yep, it’d be a night
in jail and Daisy and Slim were ready to riot, until they heard what Ginny’s
mother had done—she had prepared, just in case. She knew how much trouble two of the Federal men from Denver
had caused for her husband when he was a law-abiding sheriff, and would have no
part of seeing Mort being pressured to risk his career on one night—even a
honeymoon night. She had arraigned
to have a bed brought in and set up, and had decorated the jail cell with
curtains, and brought along Mort’s fine imported OPENED wine, and set in all
the comforts she could think of for a newly married couple.
Everyone moved on over to the Mort’s office to witness it--Jess’ name
was even hanging over the entrance. Daisy
brought all their wedding gifts and piled them high, and Mort locked them in for
the night. Jess, was finally free
of his handcuffs, with no thanks to Slim,
as it seemed he has lost the key, but Mort always had a spare, so Jess had been
able to carry his bride over the
threshold to a place he had known far too well over many a year.
Jail. He had to confess as
Slim and the gang left them ‘til morning, awaiting the wire from Denver—that
never had jail felt so good and never had jail meant so much, as it had tonight.
He had been saved from Denver and a great injustice and jail had now
turned to woo him to sleep by the soft light of the jail-bar-striped
night-shadows, of the honeymoon from a wedding-day he’d never forget. Somewhere
around noon the wire came in that the Federal men had set up warrants for the
new prisoner and that Bill’s brother has showed up for breakfast with an old
friend in Denver, and was invited to share eats with some with the very Federal
men involved in the case. Hearing
about what his brother had been up to, and how Jess was in need of help, he did
his part to assure them that it was no hoax, and there would really be a
replacement prisoner—and the guilty one, this time.
CHAPTER
SEVEN
APPLES
OF GOLD IN SETTINGS OF SILVER
Jess and
Ginny stopped by Mort’s, along with Slim, Daisy, Mike, and Ginny’s mother.
They stayed to clean up, and Jess and Ginny would gravitate to home soon.
This would be their night for their first time in the upper loft, built
at the back of the house, just for them. A
real honeymoon night, by the light of the Sherman Ranch moon, would be great,
too, and so would walking Ginny up the hill, where he had read her a poem after
an injury, and had first set to properly court her.
Ginny
picked apples as Jess walked freely about the yard and watcher her.
He’d run up to her and twirl her around on occasion, as he shouted out
to Slim, about his “Mrs. Harper”. After
a bit this, he began to notice her hair was gleaming oddly again, same as when
he was stuck to the tree, and he pulled up close to her and sought to check out
why. There were no sequins this time, and her hair was slightly
rumpled from last night, and not combed out yet—could sequins have fallen into
it from her veil? As he did some
serious checking, Slim seemed to pace nervously about. Jess
ran his fingers through Ginny’s piled up curls, and pulled out a hairpin that
had something fairly good sized and shiny stuck to it—a key.
A shiny new unused key—a spare key it was, and it suddenly hit
Jess as just what spare key it was.
As--Mort’s spare key the other night, had been mighty OLD looking, and
it registered an odd notch to Jess’ brain-markings.
“What’s
this doing in Ginny’s hair?” Jess
strode up to Slim and demanded, “I know what this is… this is the key to
Mort’s handcuffs… what’s this all about Slim?”
“It’s
not what you think Jess… I just had felt bad seeing you stuck there when Ginny
ran out to catch us… when I hugged her I stuck it in her hair… I tired to
tell her… but I didn’t want her to let you loose until we were off on the
trail. I couldn’t have you-“
“I
know, you couldn’t have me get shot-up on my wedding day. So you mean I was stuck on that DAD-BLAMED tree for hours on
end, for no reason? I could have
had my FREEDOM all that time? Why,
then most likely Mort would have
been seeing me still here with Ginny… waiting like a good groom should’a
ought, and showing my staying-powers, and why then, most likely I wouldn’t
have had to be wearing them 2-bit criminal-markers for the whole wedding, party
and all. Dad-gum!
I sure lost THAT card-cutting to an underhanded deal.
Dad-gum, Slim, dad-gum!”
“It’s
all over now, Jess… think of it as spilt milk or something… or… fried
chicken in the soot,” Slim meekly offered with best smile forward, to a pal.
Ginny
touched his hand, “Jess… I didn’t know either, I really didn’t. Slim just kept saying, apples of gold in setting of silver…
dust the silver out of your hair, and you’ll hit gold dust.”
“Oh
that’s really clever Slim… real CLEVER… you should have just told her
‘go sit over by Jess and let him take your hair down’, I could have managed
somehow… it would have been a whole lot easier and a lot more fun than sitting
stuck to that BLAME-“ Jess stared
at Mort, still half-annoyed and stated, “sorry Mort… it’s a dad-gummed great
apple tree, honest,” turning back to Slim, he continued, “that
DAD-BLAMED TREE! Do you how I felt
Slim, do you?”
“Jess…
Jess…?”
“Ginny?”
he reached for her hand in care, “what’s wrong?”
“It
wasn’t a full loss, yesterday, Jess… my groom was safe… I remember it as
something special… and it brought that song to mind, every time I saw your
face.”
“Song?”
Jess’ face showed his mind shift gears as his fingers fumbled a bit.
“Yes.
I was humming it, remember? The
one that I hummed to you last time for our honeymoon.
You sure enough liked, it. I used to hear it in the hospital. A traveling musician came by often… he’d always sing that
song, but I was too sick from my wounds to remember the words.
But it had something to do with apples.”
She came up to him and drew him near, “I had forgotten all about it…
but I remembered the song when Slim told me that… that’s why I was humming
it… and last night, in the dark after we went to sleep, the words came to me,
being that I was blind when I first heard it.
The darkness must have helped, but do you know what helped more, Jess?”
He looked
at her, and Slim finally realized he was safely off the hook and swimming free,
as Daisy and everyone else was now listening to Ginny’s story.
“Your
face under in the shade of the ‘old’ apple tree… seeing you there
stuck on that tree and you face watching my every move about the yard… why it
brought the words back to me, Jess. I
loved that song… and back when I had thought I had lost all hope of seeing my
folks’ faces again, the song made me feel happy.
I tried to picture them healed, like me, and smiling under the trees.
I soon came to know that I’d never see again.
I still always loved the trees though…remember?
That’s how we met, Jess…by the river, under the trees, while I was
picking berries. And then
yesterday, on our wedding day, there you were, stuck to the apple tree, in its
shade, and there you were my apple of gold… in the silver setting my
future from the gray clouds that turned to a silver lining for me.
And this time I could see you… I could see you and your love for
me, in the shade of the old apple tree.”
“Slim,
I think it’s time for me and my wife to go pick a few apples… seems she’s
gonna sing to me, right, Ginny?” Jess
winked at everyone, and gave Slim a right-fine shoulder slap, and as they
wandered around Mort’s old apple tree, picking apples and making soft eyes at
each other. They enjoyed the magic
of the moment, while Ginny sang to Jess:
“In the
shade of the old apple tree…
Where the
love in your eyes, I could see…
When the voice that I heard like the song of a bird,