Patty Wilkinson Writing, traveling, having fun and meeting up with friends old and new!

#85 Finding Christmas

Finding Christmas
By
Patty Wilkinson
(Some strong language, adult themes and violence...but not much!)

Many thanks to Jenny Prout for the lovely screen cap.

Chapter 1
The run up to Christmas was a busy and exciting time for most folk in Laramie. The Day itself was a time for ranchers to relax and take a step away from the often-backbreaking hard work and inclement weather; to spend a few hours in the good company of family and friends.
For the women folk the few weeks leading up to the special day were an especially busy time of preparation, baking, bringing in supplies, cleaning and of course making or buying gifts for their loved ones.
As for the children it was a time of unremitting excitement and much speculation as to what Santa would bring them that year. For even the lowliest of homes tried to provide a special present for the youngsters albeit often homemade by Pa in the barn. Many a rocking horse or doll’s house were fashioned, painted and wrapped in the dead of night, by candle light in the chilly barn.
As the days progressed preparations increased, with housewives getting short tempered in the heat of a busy kitchen, whilst over excited children were underfoot and made mischief. That was the signal for the menfolk to take themselves off on some pretext or other, returning later in the day when the children were abed and once more peace prevailed.
Two weeks before the big day, the Sherman spread was a hive of activity as well.

“I really must get on today,” said Daisy, the usually kindly housekeeper casting Slim, Jess and young Mike a firm look. “I’m all behind with my baking thanks to that problem we had with the cook stove last week. I really need to work without any disturbances, until supper time anyway.”
“Yer not throwin’ us out in that bitter cold wind are ya Daisy?” Jess asked, exchanging a wink with Slim before turning innocent, mournful eyes on her.
She glanced out the window at the bright, but chilly morning and then turned back to Jess, just in time to see him nudge and wink at young Mike.
“Oh you,” she cried slapping him playfully on the arm. “You two said you were riding fence today anyway, I’m just asking that you take your lunch with you. Will that be so bad?”
Slim got up from the table and started gathering up the breakfast dishes.
“No trouble at all Daisy. In fact, we were planning on making a day of it anyway. We’ve got a few good miles to cover if we’re to check the west and east pasture before the snow flies.”
She smiled gratefully at him and then turning to Mike said, “You’d better run along and wash up if you’re spending the day with Billy Jackson dear and put a clean shirt on. That one looks like you’ve been sleeping in it.”
“That’s because I have,” the youngster replied cheerfully, I was just too darned sleepy to undress proper last night,” he grinned before running off to change.
“I blame you for this,” Slim said turning a mock glare on his partner, “he’s heard of you falling into bed unwashed and half-dressed once too often. Your bad habits are rubbing off on the boy.”
“Well if that’s the only bad habit he picks up from me I guess we should be dang grateful,” he replied with a cheeky grin.
“See Daisy my partner here is incorrigible,” Slim said following her into the kitchen bearing a tray laden with the dirty dishes.
“Yes dear, I know, that’s why we all love him so,” Daisy replied sweetly.
“Now you will make sure Mike gets to the Jackson’s safely won’t you...and collect him before sundown. I imagine Mrs Jackson will have had quite enough of those two and their mischief by then. Billy is a lovely child, alone, and Mike too...but put them together and they can be a real handful.”
“A bit like me and old Hardrock here after a night on the town,” Jess said as he entered the kitchen and stood leaning against the door smiling down at her.
“Exactly dear, only Mike and Billy are a tad better behaved than you two,” she said with an innocent smile.
A few minutes later the men wandered off to the barn accompanied by Mike jumping around and chattering nineteen to the dozen about the day ahead.
Jess went off to Traveller’s stall and started checking him over and talking softly to his good old horse.
“How is he?” Slim asked wandering over with Mike.
“Much better,” Jess said with a relieved smile, “the swelling’s gone down now. I figure he just pulled a muscle; he’ll be fine in a day or so. Think I’ll leave him home today though to rest up some more.”
He left the stall and walked down the barn until he arrived at a sparky looking chestnut with a white blaze and four white socks.
“You’re going to take Spirit?” Slim asked looking slightly anxious.
“Sure, why not?”
“Because he’s half-crazy Jess, scared of his own shadow and too dang lively for his own good. Heck even you had a job holding him back the other day.”
“Well he sure ain’t gonna learn any sense or manners stuck out in the corral all day, is he?”
“Maybe not, but I don’t know why you don’t just sell him and let him be some other poor sucker’s problem. Or better still turn him back into the wild, huh why not do that?”
“Because I broke him and I aim to make a decent mount out of him, come hell or high water,” Jess replied stubbornly.
Slim merely rolled his eyes and called out to see if Mike was ready to ride out.
Once they were all saddled up, mounted and ready to go, the men tossed for where they would be working. Jess lost and got to ride all the way across the far side of the ranch to the West pasture, whilst Slim stayed relatively close to home checking the East pasture fences.
“Because I’m nearer I’ll drop Mike off and pick him up,” Slim said, “see ya at supper time.”
Jess nodded and giving a little salute to the others, whistled up his dog Blue and made off in the opposite direction. Giving the big chestnut his head to dissipate some of the critter’s pent up energy he galloped off down the track leaving Slim shaking his head before moving off, more sedately, towards the Jackson spread.
Blue loped along at his side, tongue lolling and tail waving in the breeze until Jess finally reined in and patted the big horse’s neck. “I guess that’s got the mischief outa you, so let’s take it nice and easy now boy huh,” he said before taking off at a more serene pace.
He worked his way along the west boundary fence until past noon and then decided to stop for a coffee and some of the cold chicken Daisy had put up for him. He lit a fire and put the coffee pot on leaving Spirit to graze. Then he settled down by the fire and shared his largess with Blue.
The huge wolf/sheepdog cross stretched out by his master once he’d been fed, enjoying the warmth of the fire as Jess poured a second coffee. It had turned bitterly cold as the morning had progressed, and now a sneaky little wind had gotten up; bringing dark clouds skittering across the horizon.
Jess was just thinking he should make a move as the terrain on the homeward journey was rougher and more challenging. But then he heard a rider approaching.
His hand instinctively shot to his holster, but then as the rider came into view he relaxed and standing up grinned.
The tall dark-haired man reined in his big buckskin and sprang down from the saddle, Blue capering around him, his tail wagging in greeting.
“Howdy Jess, hard at it I see,” said his good friend and neighbor Pete Jackson, his dark eyes twinkling in jest.
“Sure am,” Jess replied good naturedly.
He shook his old friend’s hand and then hunkered back down. “Want one?” he asked gesturing towards the coffee pot.
Pete said that he would indeed sell his soul for a good strong cup of Jess’s coffee.
“It has gotten kinda chilly,” Jess agreed, “so you been out long?”
Pete nodded, “I’ve been over to Laramie, a man needs to kinda make himself scarce this time of year dontcha find Jess?” he asked with a conspiratorial grin.
“I guess it’s worse over at your place with all those kids,” Jess replied, returning the smile.
Pete had two boys in their late teens from his first marriage and then after he was widowed, he married a younger woman who had given him another son, Billy and two daughters.
“I sure hope Mike ain’t playin’ up,” Jess added.
“Nope, not so you’d notice, all the young ‘uns are real excited. That’s what Christmas is all about I guess,” he added reflectively. Then sipping his coffee said, “Anyway, you get the pleasure of Billy’s company tomorrow.”
Jess chuckled, “I figure we can manage that. I’ll set ‘em to work on decorating the porch for the caroling next week. They can fix it up with some holly boughs and the like.”
“Yeah I’d forgotten it was a caroling year,” Pete said beaming with delight, “and we all finish off at your spread, Christmas Eve as usual?”
Jess nodded, “Miss Daisy’s baking up a storm as we speak.”
The Rev Joshua Wesley, the local Church Minister shared his Ministry with the good folk of Cheyenne, so on alternate years he had to take the Christmas Service over there. On these years it had become the tradition for all the local ranchers to ride around visiting their friends and neighbors on Christmas Eve. There they would often have an impromptu Bible reading or some festive stories along with a small drink, before moving on to the next home. Their carol singing rising up into the clear, cold sky, as they traveled from ranch to ranch.
It was also traditional for the Sherman spread to be the last port of call and by then most folk were in good spirits and ready for the excellent food and drink provided to round off the evening. Then they would make merry, sing and dance far into the night...a good time had by all.
“Not just Daisy all the women folk are pitching in and I for one will be bringing a flagon of my best cider, and maybe a small bottle of festive cheer, too,” Pete added with a sly wink.
“Swell,” said Jess, “but iffen yer bringing Moonshine for goodness sake keep it well away from the old Parson, Pete...you know what happened last time.”
The wild-eyed defrocked Parson was a regular in Sheriff Mort Cory’s cells for his bombastic sermons delivered in the saloon and often ending in a drunken brawl. He was determined to spread the good word no matter what the cost, Mort often noted. Chuckling and shaking his head as yet again the Parson was shown to a cell.
Pete gave a bark of laughter at the memory.
“I figure he beat the record for the longest dang sermon in history that night,” he said his shoulders shaking with mirth.
“Yup until we drowned him out by singing a few rousing hymns,” Jess replied smiling at the memory.
It was a good hour later before the two parted company, Jess now homeward bound as the snow clouds gathered ominously above.
“I’ll see ya tomorrow when I drop Billy off,” Pete called as he too headed for home a few miles in the opposite direction.
Jess was within an hour’s ride of the ranch when the snow started drifting lazily down. He turned up his collar and took a firm grip of the reins, the unusual weather already starting to upset his mount.
As the wind got up and the snow began to fall with more force Jess felt it sting his face and Spirit sidestepped and shook his head impatiently, clearly not liking the sensation of the cold wintry weather on his face either.
“Steady boy, we’ll soon be home and dry,” Jess said patting his neck, “come on I’ll give ya extra rations when we get back,” he added before kneeing the skittish animal onwards into the teeth of the now bitter wind.
The terrain was much more difficult as they made their way over a rocky hill that lead to the Sherman valley some five miles away below them. They were just cresting the hill and Jess figured he’d dismount and walk Spirit down the steep slippery decline on the other side, when something happened that was to change his life for the foreseeable future.
He had loosened his grip on the reins and was about to dismount when Blue suddenly started barking manically and then seconds later a pheasant shot in front of Spirit flying off in a flash of colorful wings and with a startled cry as it made a bid for safety.
This was all too much for Spirit who reared up and then careered down the icy slope at breakneck speed.
Just halfway down he missed his footing and started sliding out of control, his hooves clattering on the loose rocks and shale ...then he was down.
Jess just managed to jump free before he was rolled on by the hapless animal...who was now completely out of control as he rolled over and over before finally scrabbling to regain his feet at the bottom of the hill.
Jess had flung himself from the saddle with such force though, that he flew through the air before making contact with a rocky outcrop just to his left. He smashed head first into a jagged piece of rock. Then he rolled over and over before finally coming to rest several feet below in a small gully. He ended up splayed out on his back and lay there deathly still, the silence only broken by the sound of some more loose stones hurtling down the hillside in a small landslide.
A few minutes later he was joined by Blue who whimpered and licked his master’s cold, bloodied face, before settling down to lie beside him. One huge paw lying protectively across his chest.
Below them Spirit was on his feet and after whinnying and shaking his head he dropped his head to graze. Feeling much more relaxed now he was out of the freezing wind in the shelter of the lower valley pasture land.
*******
Meanwhile back at the ranch Mike and Slim put up their horses and ran across the yard to the sanctuary of the warm kitchen.
They burst in through the backdoor bringing an icy blast of wind and flurry of snow with them.
“Oh my, what a nasty storm,” Daisy said anxiously, her face flushed from the stove and a dab of flour on her cheek, “is Jess with you?”
Slim shook his head, “He’s not back yet Daisy. I can’t think what he’s doing, I said we should get back for supper and it’s way past that now.”
“Yes, it’s all ready, but do you want to go and look for him though Slim?” she asked casting a glance out to the yard where the snow was falling even faster and thicker now.
Slim shook his head, “I guess not, you can hardly see your hand in front of your face out there, Daisy. I could pass him within a few yards and not know it.”
“He will be OK, won’t he?” Mike piped up, his initial delight at the unexpected snow evaporating quickly.
“I’m sure he will Mike. You know Jess, he’ll be holed up in the cabin just south of the west pasture. Snug as a bug in a rug. Mark my words he’ll be home for breakfast.”
“You go and wash up dear, this is all ready,” Daisy said to the boy, who ran off looking mighty relieved.
“You really believe that?” Daisy asked turning her gaze on the tall rancher.
“I have to Daisy.”
“But I sure wish he wasn’t riding that darned ornery chestnut,” he said to himself.
“I’m pretty sure yes, and as soon as it clears some, I’ll go take a look OK?”
When it was time to turn in, the snow was still falling and Slim just had to give up on any idea of searching for his pard that night. He knew it would be foolhardy to risk his own life and in turn Mike and Daisy’s if left to fend for themselves in the inhospitable weather.
Nope, he’d just have to hope and pray that his pard really was safe in the line shack and he vowed he would go look in the morning whatever the weather. So with a heavy heart he closed the front door, from where he’d been viewing the still falling snow; doused the parlor light and made his unhappy way to bed.
The weather had cleared by morning and just as Slim was preparing to ride out he heard a horse enter the yard at a good lick. He turned to Daisy who was just fixing a gunny sack of food and some medical supplies and said, “That sounds like him now Daisy.”
He marched to the front door a welcoming smile on his face ready to give his pard a hard time; teasing him. He threw open the door and his face fell when he saw Pete Jackson and his son standing there.
Slim’ s less than welcoming expression wasn’t lost on Pete and he said quickly, “Uh, Mike can come over to our place again iffen it would be easier Slim, makes no difference to us one less or one more,” he said with a cheerful grin.
Slim remembered his manners and ushered the guests into the warm before dispatching Billy off to Mike’s room.
“No, it’s not that Pete, Billy is more than welcome. Nope it’s my pard. He’s gone AWOL and I thought it was him landing home, that’s all.”
Pete took his hat off and nodded to Daisy before frowning at his good neighbor.
“Well that’s kinda odd Slim, when I saw him yesterday, he was making for home, he should have been here before sundown.”
Daisy came over looking worried, “So where did you actually see him Pete?”
“I saw him the far side of Pine Peak Ma’am. We had a coffee together and then he headed off up the peak, uh about two o’clock I guess, should have made it back by four easy. He said he was gonna take it real easy because the terrain is bad up there, as you know Slim,” he said turning back to the blond rancher.
“Prone to landslides and the like after rain, so he said it would be good for that chestnut of his to learn to behave in tricky conditions. But ol’ Jess there is a real experienced rider I’m pretty sure he’d got that Spirit’s measure and then some,” he said reassuringly.
Slim shook his head. “That’s as may be Pete, but the weather was really bad yesterday...anything could have happened. Pine Peak you say?” he added taking the gunny sack from Daisy and nodding his thanks.
“I’ll come with you,” Pete said obligingly and shortly afterwards the two men left at speed.
It was a bright clear morning with a beguilingly blue sky, but was also bitterly cold with a hard frost.
“Jeez I sure hope he wasn’t out all night,” Slim muttered as they followed the back track that lead to the west pasture, flanked by the rugged Pine Peak.
They were nearing the area when Slim made out a horse grazing beneath the shelter of some tall pines and after a moment they reined in beside Spirit.
Slim jumped down and examined the animal thoroughly before casting a wary eye around the landscape between them and the Peak.
“Is he OK?” Pete asked from where he still sat his buckskin.
Slim shook his head, “He’s got some nasty abrasions to his front legs and side, looks like he went down, nothing too serious though he’ll be fine in a day or so.
“As I thought,” Pete said, “had a nasty fall I guess and I reckon this fellah hasn’t come too far, Jess must be around here someplace.”
Slim remounted, “We’ll leave Spirit here, pick him up on the way back,” and with that he started to follow where the horse had come from, the tracks leading off towards the base of the Pine Peak.
It took them a further half hour of searching before they came upon the gully where Jess’s body lay, still bravely guarded by Blue. Once the dog had Slim’ s scent he started a clamor of howling and barking, but never left his master’s side. The sound was eerily strident, in the silent snowy world where even the horse’s hooves were muffled by the snow.
Both men practically threw themselves down to the bottom of the gully and Slim at once reached out a tentative hand to his pard’ s neck, feeling for a pulse. When he couldn’t find one, he unbuttoned his thick sheepskin jacket and put a hand to his chest. All the while his eyes never leaving Jess’s pale, bruised and bloodstained face.
Pete crouched down beside him anxiously watching Slim’ s face, “Is he...is he...uh?”
“Is he dead? No,” Slim said with a sigh of relief, “about a whisker from it, but no, there is a weak pulse.”
Then he gently patted Jess’s face, “Jess, buddy, wake up,” he implored.
“It doesn’t look like he’s moved since he fell,” Pete said looking at the pristine snow surrounding the prone body.
“Well I guess he couldn’t move if he wanted to, with this great lummox laying on him,” Slim said with the ghost of a smile as he scratched Blue’s ears.
“Well thank God he did,” Pete observed, “I figure that old wolf dog of his kept him alive because he sure would have frozen to death by now.”
Slim nodded, “You’re not wrong there Pete. Come on, help me get him up and onto Alamo will ya?”

Chapter 2
Once Pete had left the ranch with Billy and a promise to ride for the doc, Daisy carefully bathed Jess’s face. He had a deep gash to his temple that had thankfully stopped bleeding. But the rest of the left side of his face was a mess with grit and dirt ingrained into the lacerations he’d received from slamming into the rock face.
“How do you think he did it?” Daisy asked as she tenderly cleaned the wounds.
Slim shrugged, “It looks like that darned horse was spooked by something. There were still deep marks in the snow about halfway down the Pine Peak hill. I figure the critter missed his footing and when Jess jumped clear he was thrown against the rocks and then fell another ten feet or so into a gully at the bottom. It was Blue that alerted us or I guess we’d still be looking.”
“Um, speaking of which go and give him a good rub down and some biscuits with hot milk poured over will you dear,” she asked addressing Mike, “he must be awfully cold and tired after a night out in this dreadful weather.”
Once Mike was dispatched Slim turned troubled eyes on Daisy.
“Do you want to say something,” he asked, “without little ears hearing?”
Daisy nodded, “Yes, Mike doesn’t need to hear this yet Slim dear, not until we’re sure anyway.”
“Huh... we’re not sure about what Daisy?”
“The fact that Jess hasn’t stirred or moved a muscle since you brought him home,” she said softly. “Even when he’s badly hurt, he usually comes round by now, cussing and moaning,” she said with the ghost of a smile. “But this time, nothing at all. His vital signs, breathing and circulation are both very weak too.”
“What are you saying Daisy,” Slim asked looking fearful, “we’re going to lose him?”
She looked down at that poor battered face that she knew and loved so well and sighing said very quietly, for Slim’ s ears only, “I merely mean we should prepare ourselves for the worst dear. He seems to be in a very deep coma...and I have a terrible feeling that he may not pull through this time.”
It was only an hour later that a troubled looking Doc Sam sat back from where he’d been examining his patient thoroughly.
“I have to agree with you Daisy he looks to be in quite a deep coma.”
“But he will be OK?” Slim insisted.
Sam looked very grave, “The next week or two will tell Slim. At least he still seems to have the swallowing instinct so you must try spooning cold water and maybe some sugar and water down him as frequently as possible to stop him getting dehydrated...you know, I mean too dry. You’ll need to massage his throat to help him swallow. Daisy knows what to do, don’t you my dear?” he said giving her a kindly look. “Turn him regularly and watch for bed sores and keep him warm, but not too warm. The rest is up to him...there is really no treatment I’m afraid. But I’m sure he’ll respond,” he finished flashing them his kindly smile.
Slim turned away and went to stare out of the window with unseeing eyes.
Sam and Daisy exchanged a troubled glance before the doc patted her kindly on the arm and turned to Slim.
“Come and see me out buddy? I’ll call by in a day or so to see how he’s doing.”
Once they were in the yard Sam turned to his old friend and said, “You really mustn’t give up on him you know. The latest research says that often patients still retain their hearing even when in quite a deep coma. So, we must try and keep cheerful within his hearing.”
“That’s why you said you’re sure he’ll respond?”
Sam nodded, “The power of positive thinking, he mustn’t think we’ve given up. Try and make life as normal as possible around him, let Mike jabber on. Even let that old dog stay by his side...that’s more likely to bring him back to us than any medicine I can offer. And Slim, don’t put Christmas on hold either, you’ve got a youngster in there who needs you too huh?”
Slim nodded, “Yes you’re right of course, I’ll try and make things as normal as possible; go fetch the tree...bag a wild turkey all the usual things and then maybe Jess will be able to help us dress the tree on Christmas Eve as normal huh?”
Sam looked down, “Maybe,” he said softly.
Slim accompanied Sam to the barn where he’d left his horse, the weather being bitter cold outdoors.
The doc watched as Slim saddled up Alamo and then threw a rope around Spirit.
“What are you doing?” Sam asked with a puzzled look.
“What I should have done long ago,” Slim said bitterly, “returning this damn critter to the wild where he belongs.”

****Jess’s World****
It wasn’t until he heard Slim and Daisy talking and then young Mike that he really started paying attention. Jeez he was so dang cold and hurtin’ real bad too...but it seemed like he was in some kinda prison where he couldn’t break free. Dang it...God knows he tired, especially when Mike had commenced cryin’.
Heck he’d just wanted to say, ‘Hey Tiger it’ll be OK. I guess I just need to rest up some.’
Same with dear Daisy when he’d heard her crying in the night. She sat up with him watching his every breath as he drifted away from her and back through the long dark hours.
Sometimes he felt real close to everyone at the ranch, like when he heard Mike and Blue rough-housing in the parlor, or Slim sluicing the water about as he washed up before heading for bed...and then some time long after his soft snores.
It was Daisy though that was the first to really start engaging with him...just chatting about her day as she would normally do.
Then he relaxed and just listened as he heard all about the baking she’d done and how both the Robert’s family and the Jackson’s were coming to help out with the serving in the barn for the caroling evening.
“Of course, you’ll be better by then,” she said, “so I expect you to pull your weight as well Jess Harper...no ‘poor invalid’ excuses.”
At other times he drifted off to his past...but all the time there was something nagging at him. No matter where he went or what he did in his mind there was something important he really needed to do. He needed to find Christmas.
It wasn’t just a wish or a vague desire it was an overwhelming need...as though his very existence depended upon it.
Jeez he’d been on some searches in his life... that was for sure!
He had started by searching for the Banister Gang. Then other low life hoodlums as he looked for revenge after some outrage against him. Later as a member of Mort Cory’s posse he’d searched for bank robbers, killers and various other outlaws of every description...but by then he was wearing a Deputy’s badge.
But now he was searching for something intangible...something you couldn’t touch or see...but something that meant the world to him right then...he was searching for Christmas.
He figured the best place to start was where it really wasn’t...and work his way up through the years...seeking it here and there and fitting the puzzle together.
So, the obvious place to begin was his childhood home. Oh sure, Ma tried her best, bless her heart. Tried to provide presents and a special day, but it was near impossible for her with Jess’s Pa drinking all his wages away before she even saw them.
Jess recalled that really terrible Christmas when he was a young ‘un, maybe eight or nine years of age.
By then he’d begun to realise that the Harper’s Christmas differed considerably to that of his school friends. He’d heard all about the presents they were hoping for and the large family gatherings with a wonderful meal of turkey, followed by a huge pudding. Their homes filled with joy and merriment.
Well there was dang little joy or merriment in the poor shack where the five Harpers lived. His little brother and sister were still too small to understand the injustice, his sis just a toddler and his little brother a babe in arms. Wade his older brother seemed to not give a fig about Christmas. But heck that was just Wade’s way Jess concluded, he’d given up bothering about anything. Or so it seemed, all his ambition and fun knocked out of him by his Pa. Nope all Wade wanted to do was grow up real fast and leave home as soon as he possibly could.
Francie at eleven was equally dismayed that Christmas was never officially celebrated in their home. Sure, Ma made a special effort. She would wrap up homemade gifts of scarves or a shirt for the boys and dress for the girls. Lovingly fashioned in the evenings when Pa was out at the saloon and unable to chastise her for wasting money and time on the youngsters.
She would kill one of their scraggy old chickens for the day too and made the best of the meal with the meager supplies she had. But Pa was never there to share it with them though. He’d spend the day propping up some bar. Then complain when he landed home at midnight to find his supper drying out in the slow oven. He would pick a fight and then there would be yelling and screaming, often culminating with Pa lashing out at Ma. The children would hide beneath the bed-covers covering their ears and waiting for the terrible row to blow itself out and only relaxed when they heard Pa staggering up the stairs to bed.
This particular Christmas Jess was feeling even more hard done by than usual. He’d finally had to abandon his boots a few months earlier as they were pinching so much it was agony to walk in them. Going barefooted was pretty common in his neck of the woods throughout the summer, but now in mid-winter he was cold and miserable.
Then on Christmas Eve it had started to snow adding further angst to his sorry life. Yup Jess sure was feeling sorry for himself as he trudged home in the gloom of late afternoon from where he’d been off fishing with his buddies. Instinct told him to stay well away from home as his Pa would be back from work early as the saloons would be filling up by late afternoon and he’d be on his way soon after an early snack and wash, Jess imagined. But eventually the bitter cold drove him homewards.
To add insult to injury Wade was refusing to part with his old boots saying they fitted him just fine and Jess would have to just wait until he outgrew them. So he informed his little brother with a smug smile on his face. As though it wasn’t bad enough having Wade’s dang hand me downs Jess thought bitterly, without him obviously taking pleasure in Jess’s plight.
Still smarting from the encounter with his brother that morning Jess finally entered the house to see Wade toasting his toes by an unusually hearty fire.
“You’ll catch it when Pa comes home puttin’ so much dang wood on,” Jess said.
“What’s it to you?” Wade replied impatiently. “Anyway, I’ll just tell him you did it. Say how poor little Jesse needed to warm his poor frozen cold toes huh?” he asked with a malicious laugh, standing up to face his kid brother.
That was it for Jess. He’d had enough.
All the afternoon his friends had been going on and on about what presents they would receive the following day. Then he’d had the humiliation of walking back from the creek barefooted in the snow. Some folk passing by had openly ridiculed the scruffy little kid with no boots.
“His Pa probably drank all the money away,” one man wisecracked to his friend as Jess passed them.
Others threw him looks of concern and sympathy which was somehow even harder to bear.
Once he was home and his feet started to lose the numb feeling and warm up, they were agony. Now here was Wade mocking him and it was all too much...Jess saw red.
He hurled himself at his brother charging at him and head-butting him in the stomach. Wade was taken by surprise at the unexpected attack and fell backwards bringing a small table and vase crashing down with him. Then Jess was upon him straddling him and raining blows down on Wade’s head...Ma and Francie ran in from the kitchen alerted by the smashing vase and cried for them to stop. But by now Wade was fired up too and wrenching himself free he retaliated hitting Jess hard on the chin and sending him flying across the room.
Just at that moment the door flew open and Pa stood on the threshold, taking in the scene. Then with uncharacteristic speed he marched in and grabbing both boys by the collar shook them roughly before throwing them down to crash in an untidy heap at his feet.
“What the hell are you doing?” he raged. “Can’t a man have some peace in his own home without you two young layabouts trying to kill each other damn it! Well speak up what’s it all about?” he bellowed, when the boys just lay there panting and looking mighty uncomfortable.
It was finally Jess, who was still feeling pretty darned mad, that replied.
“It was Wade, he were teasin’ me about havin’ no boots Pa,” he said flushing angrily.
He scrambled to his feet now and glared at his father. Damn it, it was all his fault he thought bitterly. If he’d just stay away from the dang saloon maybe he’d be able to buy his son some boots.
Almost as though he’d heard Jess’s thoughts and feeling overwhelmed by guilt and shame his Pa did all he could do...he turned on his middle son with a vengeance.
“So, it’s my fault is it?” he snarled, “You ungrateful little lout.”
“I never said that,” Jess said now throwing his Pa a challenging look...and then something inside him snapped and his chin came up, his eyes narrowed and he said those fateful words...
“But yeah I guess it is. Iffen you didn’t drink all your money away then they’d be some left over for boots...and other stuff...fer Christmas and the like...”
He knew the minute he’d said it he’d overstepped the mark. Heck he’d always been brought up to respect his Ma and Pa. Just like the Good Book said. But something had just pushed him too dang far. The Harper temper had emerged and it was to get him into immeasurable trouble over the years, but right now it was nearly to cause his demise.
His father took one step forwards and back-slapped Jess so hard across the face that he went flying into the corner of the chimney-piece and crashed to the floor out cold...blood trickling down his paper white face.
His Ma screamed and Francie burst into tears, followed moments later by her baby sister, whilst Wade still lay on the floor looking up at his Pa with fear and hatred.
Then Ma sprang forward stooping down to take her beloved son in her arms, gently patting his cheek and begging him to speak to her.
She glanced up at her husband and for once in her life stood up to him.
“Go and fetch the doctor...now!” she cried furiously.
But Pa just stood there looking completely broken, before saying quietly “I can’t...we got no money for a doc you know that gal.”
Ma looked exasperated, “Well get someone for heavens sakes...the boy looks near dead!”
That seemed to stir Pa out of his dazed state and he ran from the room.
Sometime later Kate Munroe arrived and hastened to the old couch, now pulled close to the fire, where Jess lay looking deathly pale.
“Thank God,” said Ma, “that man of mine done walloped him good Kate...he ain’t stirred since.”
Kate took one look at the pale sickly-looking child and shook her head, “He needs a doc honey this here is more than I can deal with.”
“Please Ma begged we ain’t got money for the doc and he needs help now, just do what you can will ya...Kate...please.”
In the end Kate had put a cold compress on his head and he’d eventually come around. He spent the whole of Christmas chucking up and Kate declared it was the worst dang case of Addle Brain as she’d ever seen.
Remembering it now Jess thought how nothing had dang well changed. Addle Brain, or concussion was what Doc Sam called the condition nowadays. He wondered fleetingly if that was what was ailing him right now. Jeez, his head sure was hurting something fierce.
Then he heard the bedroom door open and close and smelt the light flowery perfume his dear Millie favored. He sensed her closeness and felt her hand in his and could have wept at the fact that we was trapped in this nightmare and couldn’t respond...he just had to lay there and listen to her weeping quietly.
Just concentrate he said to himself. Think about something else...anything but this agony of not bein’ able to wake up proper.
He cast his mind back to his childhood again. Well the spirit of Christmas sure wasn’t in the Harper household that Christmas Day. But maybe he’d glimpsed it fleetingly the following year?

NB This following an extract from #64The Beginning

His Ma was real sick and Pa had sent the little ones and Francie off to relatives…but they didn’t want to be bothered with him and his brother. So, Wade went to a friend’s place and his best friend Millie said her Ma and Pa had agreed to take him.
It was cold and dark when Jess finally arrived at the Johnson’s shack a mile or so over the ridge from where he lived. He stood outside the warmly lit little cabin, listening to the laughter and happy banter coming from within, a roller coaster of emotions flooding through him.
Part of him was incredibly angry...at his Ma for being sick, at his Pa for, heck, just for being his Pa, and even directed at his good friends the Johnson family, having him to stay. He was the charity case and them doing a good turn for his poor downtrodden old Ma. He nearly ran off, the shame and anger taking over.
But there was another part of him wanted to join in, to be a part of this lively, happy, loving family that was so different to his own. Wanted to be with his best friend, little Millie, and to laugh with Tad and tease her elder sister Ginny, to relax in the kind loving presence of Ma Johnson, who he knew would spoil him rotten.
Then there was Millie’s Pa…Gee, Mr. Johnson was a great guy. He was everything his own Pa was not, kind, approachable, sober and hardworking. Sure, the Johnson’s lived in poverty like his own folks, but at least Pa Johnson put food on the table and could provide the basics of a Christmas for his family, mainly because he didn’t drink away every darn cent he earned, like his own Pa did, Jess thought bitterly.
He still stood undecided on the doorstep, hating being this figure of pity, but before he could run off, the door suddenly swung open and Millie stood there.
“Hey, I was just comin’ to look for you,” she said, her brown eyes laughing up at him. “Heck, what are you doin’ standing out here, Jess? It’s freezin’.” Grabbing him by the arm, she pulled him into the warm comfortable place that was home to her and her loving family.
From that moment on, Jess was treated just as one of the family. No big deal; he wasn’t some poor waif or stray landed to be viewed with sympathy, the poor Harper kid. Nope he was just treated in the same rough and tumble way as the other Johnson offspring, his presence viewed nothing out of the normal, just another family member popped in to celebrate Christmas, and Jess had never forgotten that ... his first real Christmas.
He’d bedded down in Tad’s room, and as the boys went off that night, Ma handed them a stocking apiece. Jess looked at her with questioning blue eyes.
“For Santa dear,” Mrs. Johnson said smiling down at him.
“Huh?”
“You put it down at the bottom of your bed, and Santa comes and puts presents in it for you,” said Tad knowledgeably. “Heck, I’m only five an’ I know that, Jess,” he said in amazement at his hero’s ignorance.
“Yeah, sure,” said Jess with a look of skepticism far beyond his years. Mr. and Mrs. Johnson exchanged a sad glance over the head of the world-weary boy who knew nothing of the childish joys of Santa Claus and all he represented.
So, it was with unbridled excitement that Jess awoke the following morning to find a stocking on the end of his bed stuffed with a generosity of gifts he found hard to comprehend. Never had he had so many good things just for himself, as any favors, such as they were, always had to be shared between the five children in the Harper household.
From the penny comic sticking out of the top to the bag of nuts in the toe, everything was a pure delight to the young boy and he just couldn’t believe his luck.
But then things just got better and better, from the pancakes with maple syrup at breakfast to the turkey dinner, to the games and fun and laughter. Every moment of the day was special to young Jess, but the very best moment came just before bedtime.
Ma Johnson was putting an over-excited Tad to bed, and Ginny and her Pa were poring over a book she had been given, when Millie whispered for Jess to follow her outside.
Once they had made their escape, they ran over to the barn, and pulling the heavy door open, ran inside. After a moment, Millie lit a small lantern.
“What are we doin’ over here?” asked Jess. “It’s a mite chilly,” he remarked, noting Millie was wearing a pretty but thin party dress instead of her usual work a day denim dungaree, and wondered if she was feeling the cold too.
“Got somethin’ to show you,” she whispered, and turning, she slipped inside one of the stalls. Reaching behind a bale of straw, she returned with a small parcel wrapped in brightly colored paper.
Jess’s face was a picture of concern. “Hey Mill, I ain’t got anything for you. I’m real sorry.”
“Don’t be daft. Didn’t expect anything,” she said stoutly. “Heck, I know how you’re fixed, Jess. It’s just been great you being over today.”
“Really?”
“Sure. Now you gonna open it or what?” she asked reverting to her little girl bossiness.
Jess carefully removed the wrapping, revealing a beautifully fashioned little bracelet made from leather thongs woven together.
“It’s a special friendship bracelet,” Millie said smiling. “I’ve made it for you, and if you wear it, well, it means we’re best friends forever and ever. You want it?” she asked, suddenly shy.
Jess’s eyes were bright with unshed tears. “Sure I do; sure I want it,” he whispered.
She smiled at him, and taking it from his trembling hands, carefully tied the bracelet around his skinny little wrist. “Right, we’re officially best friends forever and ever now,” she exclaimed, “and you can kiss me.”
Jess stood there staring at her for a moment, suddenly realizing how pretty she looked in her party dress her tousled dark curls falling around her shoulders and a becoming flush to her cheeks. Then he leaned forwards, and gently taking her by the shoulders, he kissed her fleetingly on the lips, before pulling quickly back.
Millie beamed at him, now back to her bossy little self. “That was good for a first try,” she said, “very good. But I expect we’ll need to practice ... when we’re all grown up, that is.”
“Yeah… OK,” murmured Jess warily, “when we’re grown up...yeah.”
Shortly afterwards, they ran back to the house, laughing and pushing as they went, back to being as playful and carefree as a pair of young puppies.
Then he smiled to himself, “That was the best darned Christmas he’d ever had as a kid and yeah...he’d had a tiny glimpse of Christmas...but it was to be many a year before he found it again.

Chapter 3
Another night seemed to have passed or was it two...Jess was losing track of all time. He tried not to think about the fact that he was totally incapacitated. Being unable to move or speak. In fact, the longer he was in this dream-like state the more the real world of Daisy, Mike and Slim seemed to be drifting away from him and his old memories became clearer. Almost like that were the real world and his friends at the ranch merely a fading dream...slowly getting dimmer and dimmer.
Once more he set off on his quest for Christmas.
Now he was fifteen years old and his life had been completely devastated by the loss of his kin...the babies, Ma and Pa all dead. Wade had taken himself off someplace and Francie given a home by an Uncle.
But Jess was determined to get his revenge on the Bannister Gang for firing the family home and no one...or thing, was about to stop him. He was totally distraught and traumatized after seeing his kin die that way, hearing their cries of agony as the flames engulfed them...and the only way out for him was retribution. Every fiber of his young 15-year-old being cried out for it. He had to get even and vanquish the perpetrators of his family’s untimely end; or die trying.
He set off one morning with nothing but a few dollars in his pocket a good horse and saddle. It was Millie’s Pa Mr Johnson who had given him the tough, young bay gelding complete with an old saddle and some cash.
“I don’t want you to go son, and neither does my Millie. Fact is I guess it’ll break her heart. But I can see you’re determined and there ain’t no power on this earth that’ll stop you.”
Jess nodded, “That’s about the size of it sir, yeah,” Jess agreed solemnly.
“I thought not. Well take Traveller with my blessing, he’s a good horse, still real young just green broke, needs bringing on some, but he’ll make a good horse and look after you boy.”
Jess looked beyond Mr Johnson to where Traveller was grazing peacefully in the field and then stared back at Millie’s Pa, unable to believe his luck.
“Really sir I can have him...as my own?”
The older man smiled down at the youngster and nodded. “Here’s a bill of sale made out to you. Just in case anyone asks what a youngster is doing with a fine horse like him,” he said smiling and passing the papers over.
“You’re a good kid Jess. Always been kind to my Millie and looked out for her; young Tad too, and we’ll all be real sorry to see you go. Promise me one thing, boy…don’t forget us. Don’t forget where you started from either huh? You make sure Trav there brings you back home one day, won’t you?”
So, his lengthy search for the Bannister Gang began. He was armed with an old Colt 45 he’d found in the barn and cleaned up real good. From an early age he had worked on his skill at fast drawing and accuracy by shooting into an old clay bank and taking pot shots at Pa’s empty whiskey bottles, somehow knowing that one day he’d need the skill. He was fast sure and the envy of many of his friends... But much later he was to tell Slim, with a wry grin, “Sure I was pretty darned fast in those days...but not as fast as I thought I was. I reckon iffen I’d found the Bannisters they’d have slaughtered me.”
But that was with the wisdom of age and hindsight. Back then he figured he could take on the world and win...but that was youth for you.
So he’d set off on his travels with his very own horse and what a friend he had been to young Jess...still was, he mused as he lay on his sick bed remembering those early years together. He recalled how the days went into months as he learned to survive in the Big Open.
Sure he’d been kinda lonely at first. Being a member of a large noisy family to the shock of being alone with just the sounds of the wilderness all around had been hard...real hard. But the horse was a great source of comfort to him and before too long there was a bond between the boy and his critter that would never be broken.
Nights were full of the unearthly sounds of owl and fox, wolves howling on the wind. Closer at hand there was the rustling and scrabbling sounds of smaller animals going about their nocturnal business. Then when the wind got up and screamed through the pines like a wild banshee making the campfire flames flicker casting spooky shadows all around, he would tether Traveller just a little closer and finally sleep feeling the comfort of his presence. Gradually as time went on the Big Open was his sanctuary and his home, the night time sounds a lullaby to rock him to sleep and he feared it no more.
Yes he was wary about what was out there as he had told Mike, not long ago, when they were camping out.
The child had been spooked by the sound of wolves on the wind.
“Weren’t you scared out in the Big Open when you were real young Jess?” He had asked wide eyed.
Jess shrugged, “You get used to bein’ alone after a while Tiger. You get to know all the sounds of the different critters...know when to worry and when you can relax. A man would be a fool not to be concerned every now and again, wolves, cougar, bears, snakes...you gotta watch out for them all. But mostly they leave you alone and life’s real peaceful.”
“So those wolves...they’ll leave us alone huh?” Mike had asked, his eyes troubled.
Jess had grinned and reaching forward ruffled the child’s hair. “I’m sure they will; they’re headin’ up north see...can ya hear? They’re getting quieter and quieter...be gone shortly. You get some shut–eye now huh?”
Jeez was that only a few weeks ago...and now here he was in this dang living hell...of being in some sort of no man’s land he thought. He wasn’t really asleep...but he sure as hell weren’t awake either...dang it. Think Harper he said to himself...you just got beat up some, fallin’ off of that damn fool horse and you gotta rest until this darned headache eases up some...
So, what were you doing...? Uh that’s it, lookin’ fer Christmas...Well that first one after Ma, Pa and the kids perished...was strange...real strange, he remembered.
His first Christmas on the drift was spent in jail.
The weather had turned real cold and wet and Jess decided he’d have to give up trailing the Bannister Gang and find a town to sit out the worst of the winter months. He figured it was probably December now, although he hadn’t spoken to a living soul for a few weeks, not since he’d run into some drovers. But the Bannisters seemed to have gone to earth...the trail he’d been following ending in disappointment.
The tracks he’d been following he found out eventually belonged to the bunch of drovers returning home after a trail drive. They had laughed uproariously when they heard that the youngster was looking to kill the Bannisters single handed. But that mirth had quickly changed to concern...and then a grudging respect when Jess furiously told them exactly why he was on the gang’s trail...and what he aimed to do when he found them.
Then the oldest of the men took him to one side and said quietly, “I can understand yer need fer vengeance boy, sure I can. I guess me and the boys respect ya fer wantin’ it too... But those Bannisters are a wild lot son. I figure you can’t take ‘em alone.”
“I’ll be the judge of that,” Jess spat angrily still feeling totally wretched as his painstaking tracking had led to nought.
“Well they sure ain’t in these parts,” the kindly drover continued. “I figure the smart move would be to find a town and hole up there for the worst of the winter. Because I’m tellin’ you from experience boy, you try and see out the winter in the Big Open you’ll live to regret it...and that’s iffen yer lucky. I nearly died tryin’ to weather it out and I’m pretty dang skilled at survival.” He shook his head sadly. “Look at ya boy... not an ounce of fat on you and that mount of yours looks like he could do with a decent feed too and a nice warm stable huh?”
That was it for Jess...he was happy to half starve if that was what was called for as he renewed his quest...but Traveller...hell why should his good horse suffer?
That had been a couple of weeks ago and now with the persistent rain turning to sleet he had started to make his way towards the nearest town of any size.
He was watering Traveller by a lake when he heard a rider heading slowly towards him.
The big man reined in his rather elderly mount by Jess and tipped his hat to the boy.
“Afternoon son,” he drawled.
Jess nodded warily and stared at him, wondering what his business was, but then the older man dismounted and led his horse over to drink his fill.
“So have you been on the road long?” he asked.
Jess just nodded, “Long enough.”
“Where are you heading?”
Jess tipped his hat down the trail that led to the town, “Lookin’ to get me some work in town,” he said.
Then the other looked around him, “Gets kinda lonely on the trail don’t it son...you all alone I take it?”
“Got my horse,” Jess said quietly, “he’s company enough.”
The older man left his mount still drinking and wandered over to look at Traveller. “Mighty fine horse,” he said, “especially for a youngster like you,” he added noting Jess’s threadbare duds and skinny frame.
“He’s mine fair an’ square,” Jess said now looking annoyed and about to reach in his vest for the bill of sale from Mr Johnson.
“Hey take it easy son I didn’t think anything different,” the big man said grinning now.
“Nope I was gonna make you an offer for him. I could really use a good young mount, old Tito here’s getting a tad long in the tooth.”
Jess shook his head and moved protectively in front of Traveller, “He ain’t for sale Mister.”
“Oh come on boy, you said you were looking for work and hell by the looks of you, you could sure use the cash and I’ll give you good money for him, what do ya say huh?”
Jess’s chin came up and his eyes narrowed, “I said he ain’t for sale,” he growled.
“Look son, we can do this easy...or hard,” the stranger said drawing his iron and aiming at Jess’s belly. “I asked real nice...now I’m tellin’ ya...hand over the reins boy or I’ll blast you to kingdom come...you hear me!”
Before Jess could even think it through, he instinctively kicked out at the Colt knocking it from the surprised man’s hand and then followed it through with another kick aimed squarely at the man’s lower belly and he fell to his knees in agony cussing loudly.
Seconds later Jess vaulted into the saddle and urged Traveller down the track at a hearty gallop. He turned just once and looked back to see the man now lying on his side as though in the throes of agony.
“Serves ya dang well right,” he muttered as he spurred Traveller on to even greater speed.
It was early evening when he rode into town and made for the livery. He was cold, wet and still angry from the would-be horse thief, so he probably wasn’t quite as well-mannered as he should have been when the owner came out of the back.
An elderly man with a shock of white hair and a ruddy face advanced and said “Evenin’ son.” Then he spotted Traveller and added, “Um...nice horse.”
Wordlessly Jess took the bill of sale from his pocket and showed it to the livery owner. “Just so as there ain’t no mistaking I’m the rightful owner,” he said aggressively.
“Hey now hang on there, boy, I weren’t thinkin’ that,” the old man said flushing up.
“Weren’t ya?” Jess asked receiving the papers back.
The old-timer grinned at him then and said, “Well maybe. Let’s start again, I’m Billy Morris and I own this joint and you are?”
“Harper sir, Jess Harper,” he said shaking the offered hand.
“So then Jess what can I do for you huh?”
Now it was Jess’s turn to look a tad uncomfortable.
“Truth is Mr Morris I was looking for work and maybe a free billet for me and Traveller?”
“Ha, you don’t want much do you son, a job, bed and board huh?”
“Just a bed sir, well I can sleep in the stall and I guess I can get my own food.”
The old man chuckled shaking his head, “You know my old Pappy used to say, ‘don’t ask...don’t get in this life son’ and guess what it’s your lucky day.”
“It is?”
“Uh-huh. See my stable-boy Freddy done fell from the hay loft and broke his arm a while back. Well he’ll be OK in a couple of weeks I guess, but you can sure have a job until then...and you do a good job I might just take you on permanent...so how does that suit huh?”
*******
Jess settled down well at the livery and he and Freddy hit it off right away.
He was surprised to see the boy still at work albeit with his left arm in a sling.
Billy noted Jess watching Freddy groom a horse using his good arm and grinned, “He’s really plucky is young Freddy. But I guess there’s plenty he can’t do Jess, so you’ll have more than enough work. That’ll give me a break too,” he said happily wondering off to his home behind the stable where his wife kept a coffee pot on the stove for his frequent breaks.
Once he’d gone Jess turned to the red haired, freckle faced Freddy and said, “Why dontcha take it easy I’ll finish off in here.”
Freddy happily passed over the brushes and went and reclined on a straw bale and watched Jess work his way through grooming all the mounts. Once he’d finally finished the job he leaned on the last stall and threw Freddy a hopeful glance. “Anyplace we can get us a coffee around here?”
Freddy nodded, “Sure I’ve got me a pot on the go in the back room. I’ll fetch you a cup.”
A few minutes later he returned carrying two steaming mugs of coffee, his sling temporarily abandoned.
He passed the drink over and Jess threw him a quizzical glance.
“Had a miracle cure out back did ya?”
Freddy frowned, “What?”
“Yer arm...seems to be miraculously cured,” Jess said with a wry grin.
“Uh that, yeah,” said Freddy looking down at his arm and then returning it to the sling. “Yup been just swell for nigh on two weeks now, good as new.”
“What,” yelled Jess, “and you let me do all the dang work on my own!”
Freddy just laughed, “Well hell Jess if I hadn’t been swinging the lead you wouldn’t have gotten the job now would ya?”
Jess thought about it and then he grinned too, “I guess not. But it ain’t real fair conning the old guy.”
Freddy just shrugged, “Ain’t my fault if the doc told him I had to rest it fer two months now is it Jess? Ain’t my fault I’ve got me real good healing flesh either is it?” And at that the two boys fell about laughing as only young boys do and a friendship was born.
The couple of weeks Jess spent in Freddy’s company were indeed just what he needed. For the first time since he’d been on the drift he could relax again and act like the kid he was in Freddy’s fun company. They laughed and roughhoused their way through the daily grind and then had fun sweet-talking the girls down at the local dance hall in the evenings. It was a cheap night out with free entry and the drinks were low-priced too with nobody questioning their age or right to be there.
“Just glad to take our money Jess boy,” Freddy told him with a wisdom born of having lived and worked around the town all his life. He too had lost his Ma and Pa in the flu epidemic a few years earlier and had needed to make his own way just like Jess, so they had a lot in common.
Because of this the boys were spoiled rotten by old Ma Morris, the childless livery owner’s wife. She provided them with excellent wholesome meals. “The poor wee motherless boys,” she would say in her Scottish brogue to her husband. But Billy Morris would just roll his eyes and go about his business. Just glad his wife had someone to lavish her affection on other than himself, especially as that affection manifested itself in pies and puddings enough to fatten up the whole town.
“We’ve got us a real good billet here Jess,” Freddy said one night as they were turning in, up in the hayloft, “I wonder what Ma Morris will cook up for Christmas dinner?”
“Huh?” asked a weary Jess.
“Christmas Jess, why it’s the day after tomorrow, didn’t ya know?”
“Can’t say as how I did,” Jess said, “but it won’t be nuthin’ special will it, we still gotta work ain’t we?”
“Nope we don’t,” Freddy said joyfully, “we git time off and we git to eat at the house with Ma and Mr Morris, how about that!”
“What me too?” Jess asked sitting up and taking notice.
“Why sure he said so yesterday. So you be sure to wash up real good before we go buddy. We don’t wanna be takin’ the stable to the table, or we might not git asked back again.”
Jess smiled and said sure, and then lay down on his side of the loft, his eyes suddenly bleak. That’s what Ma had always said to him when he’d been working the land with their old work horse.
“You wash up real good boy I don’t want that ol’ horse sitting at the table with us!”
“Oh Ma,” he whispered to himself in the dark and closed his eyes tightly to stop the tears.
It was the morning of Christmas Eve when a heavy, red faced man rode in on a stocky buckskin horse and asked for him to be stabled for the day.
“And be quick about it,” the man yelled as Jess came forwards to take the reins.
The horse raised his head and rolled his eyes at the gruff voice and Jess put out a gentle hand to calm the nervous animal.
“No need to pet the damn beast boy,” he said irritably, “just stable him and have him ready for when I return at four o’clock sharp.”
“Yes sir,” Jess said somewhat less than agreeably as he turned to do as he was bid.
“Hey boy, do you know who you’re dealing with here huh?”
Jess looked him up and down and resisted the urge to say a jerk, but instead merely said, “No sir.”
“Well for your information my name is Joseph Rainer and I own half this town and don’t you forget it sonny...you got that?”
Jess just stared at him deadpan and said, “Yes sir,” again.
Rainer stared hard at the lad, knowing he was being insolent, but not sure in what way.
“Hmm,” he growled before turning on his heels and striding off.
The buckskin watched him go and Jess could have sworn he heard a sigh of relief.
Then Freddy came up behind him, “That bastard’s brought Mouse in has he?”
“Mouse?” Jess asked raising a quirky eyebrow.
“That’s what he calls him, says he’s as timid as a dang mouse and he’s gonna knock some sense into him one day, poor critter,” Freddy said fondling the animal’s ears.
“The hell he is,” Jess muttered angrily.
“Hey, forget I said that buddy,” Freddy said quickly, “you don’t wanna start anything with old man Rainer, he’s got the whole dang town in his pocket, including the Sheriff. He says jump and the Sheriff asks how high.”
It was just before two when the man returned for his horse. Jess and Freddy had been busy looking after the other mounts as the livery was full to bursting with it being Christmas Eve with many folks doing their last-minute shopping before Christmas.
Rainer strode in looking even redder in the face and more irritable than earlier and decided to take his temper out on the cheeky young stable boy.
“Why isn’t my mount ready?” he shouted as Jess came over to greet him.
Swallowing an angry reply Jess merely said, “I’m sorry sir...I’ll fetch him right away.”
“Hold it right there boy, I said why isn’t he ready?”
Jess turned and retraced his steps and glaring up at the heavy-set man said, “Because you said four o’clock and it’s only just on two and I’ve been kinda busy,” he added tipping his hat towards the full stalls.
Rainer seemed to see red at that and pushing Jess roughly out of the way he stormed down the stable and yanked Mouse’s stall door open startling the poor critter who had been dosing quietly.
“Forget it I’ll do it myself,” Rainer threw over his shoulder as he grabbed hold of the animal’s bridle and roughly dragged him out.
The horse was obviously terrified and reared up, showing the whites of his eyes and whinnying in terror.
“Leave him be!” Jess yelled running forwards. “Can’t you see yer frightening him?”
“He’s not frightened,” the other replied harshly, “just damn stubborn and ornery, needs to be taught a lesson!”
With that he dived for the whip lying by his saddle and started whipping the horse on his body and neck drawing blood as the poor animal pranced on his hind legs trying to ward off the unjustified attack.
“Goddamn it...stop it!” Jess yelled.
That’s when Rainer turned the whip on the boy. It caught him on the cheek, producing a nasty gash, blood splattering down his shirt in seconds.
Jess put a hand to his cheek the pain excruciating and then as the tall man turned and recommenced hitting his horse Jess completely lost it.
He tore across the stable and with the strength of ten wrestled the whip out of Rainer’s grasp and kneed him hard in the belly. The heavy man sank to his knees like a fallen oak and that’s when Jess punched him hard in the face. Rainer desperately tried to ward off the blows Jess was now hurling at him, but it was quite hopeless.
It took old Mister Morris and two of his clients to finally haul Jess off, Freddy watching pale and shaken from the side lines as the Sheriff was summoned.
“I’m sorry Mr Morris, but I’m afraid the boy will have to be taken into custody,” Sheriff Knowles said watching Rainer pensively out of the corner of his eye.
“Oh, come on Steve give the kid a break,” Morris said quietly. “That bastard Rainer was abusing his horse, what was the boy to do? Stand by and watch? And anyway, he assaulted young Jess there too, look at his face. Be scarred for life I shouldn’t wonder; don’t that count for nuthin’?”
“I’m sorry Bill, but you know how it is...more than my jobs worth to let the kid get away with it, I’m real sorry.”
Then turning away, he grabbed hold of the now handcuffed Jess and led him away.

Chapter 4
Considering all things Jess didn’t have too bad a time in the jail.
At first, he was as mad as all get out.
“Tell me...just tell me how come I end up in jail and that bastard walks free?” He’d yelled as he was pushed into the cell, the door slamming behind him.
“Look, we can either do this the easy way, or we can stick you down in the cellar lockup and forget about you until after Christmas. So, which is it to be son?”
“Gall darn it will you folk stop callin’ me son!” Jess spat. “I ain’t yer son, or that bastard Rainer’s or even old Morris’, I ain’t nobody’s son no more!”
The Sheriff exchanged a look with his Deputy, Curt Rollins, and then said more gently, “How’s that then boy, you lost yer kin?”
Jess just nodded and went and slumped down on the dirty old cot and refused to say more.
The general good nature of the Sheriff and his Deputy finally won him over and he found himself eating a pretty good supper. Then he played checkers with the other member of the team; an old timer nicknamed, Windy and it didn’t take Jess long to figure out why. But he was kind enough and gossiped away telling Jess all about the town’s folk and especially Rainer. That was once the Sheriff and his deputy had departed for their supper. It seemed Windy was the gofer in the outfit and knew everyone in the town.
“Rainer made money on the backs of other folk, had a mining concern and worked those poor men until they dropped. Then he dumped them all and moved on to something else...but he’s got money see boy and money talks.”
“Well it don’t impress me none,” Jess said quietly, “he’s a coward and a damn disgrace the way he treated his animal.”
“I heard,” Windy replied, “and the way he treated you too boy, by the looks of things.”
Jess put a hand to his face that had been treated by the doc and declared to be not as bad as it looked.
“Shouldn’t leave a scar son,” he’d said blithely, “won’t hinder you around the gals if that’s what you’re thinking.”
Jess didn’t consider it wise to tell the doc exactly what he was thinking right then, like what he’d like to do to Rainer. Then he wondered if thinking was almost as bad as doin’ because if so, he reckoned he’d be looking at a noose for sure.
“If it’s any consolation, that fat bastard’s staying in town until the trial because he can’t sit a horse. You whopped him real good boy, broken nose, black eye and that hit in the belly means he won’t be riding for a good while either,” Windy continued cheerfully now.
“Oh well I guess Mouse will get a break then,” Jess said acerbically.
“Yup, poor critter,” Windy agreed.
“So how long will I be banged up here?” Jess asked, dreading the answer; the walls seeming to be closing in towards him already.
“Not long boy, the Judge is said to be coming in day after Christmas for the hearing.”
Jess looked surprised, “So soon?”
“Yup he doesn’t hang about old Judge Smyth.”
“Don’t tell me,” Jess said, “he’s in the pay of that dang Rainer as well huh?”
“Ha not at all, nope. In fact, the Judge is his own man, does what he thinks is right and real fair too. He lives on the edge of town and just works as a Judge part of the time. The rest of the time he breeds quarter horses, got some real fine animals at his place.”
Jess’s head shot up and he looked really interested, “So he likes horses then huh?”
“Likes...ha... likes? No boy he love’s em...they’re his whole life. He’d do pretty much anything for those horses of his,” and he chuckled to himself.
“Set ‘em up again shall I?” he asked, nodding to the checkers board.
At noon on Christmas Day Ma Morris marched in bearing a tray laden with a Christmas dinner with all the trimmings and even a slab of pudding to follow.
She banged it down on the Sheriff’s desk and said loudly, “For that poor dear laddie you’ve got locked up. May God forgive you!” and she stood hands on hips eyeing the Sheriff beadily.
“Look Ma’am I’m just doing my job.”
“Well may the Lord forgive you! Keeping a poor dear innocent laddie like Jess confined, and on this day as well!”
The Sheriff blushed and said, “I’ll take it to him Mrs Morris and I promise you he’s in good hands. I’m sorry he isn’t allowed visitors, but we’ll see you tomorrow for the trial I take it?”
“Ha, a kangaroo court more like,” she hissed, “half of the jurors still drunk and the rest hung over and everyone knows it will be rigged and the poor dear boy will be incarcerated, thanks to that dreadful Rainer man.”
“Well that’s not true Ma’am, I’m sure the Judge will make a fair assessment of the case.”
“Fiddlesticks!” And that was her parting shot as she left to return to her own cooling dinner.
The next day she called by early with clean clothes for Jess.
“He may as well make as good an impression as he can and tell the poor laddie we’re right behind him she added,” tears in her eyes.
The court room was full of town’s folk and the atmosphere one of merriment with much banter and the Sheriff had to admit several folk still looked like they’d just tipped out of the saloon, even though it was ten in the morning.
The crowd changed to a more serious mood though, as the Judge swept in. The court usher intoned, “All stand,” and Jess’s ordeal began.
As everything had been rushed through at the last-minute Rainer had declared he wouldn’t need the assistance of a lawyer and would give his own evidence. Assuming that it would be an open and closed case, nobody would dare cross him, or so he thought.
Jess had been offered the opportunity of legal advice, but everyone knew he couldn’t afford it.
“I can speak up fer myself,” he’d said belligerently, “after all I’m just tellin’ the truth ain’t I?”
The Sheriff had shaken his head and exchanged a glance with his deputy, and the words ‘lamb to the slaughter’ crossed his mind.
Now Jess stood in the dock, in his freshly laundered shirt, courtesy of Ma Morris and surveyed the crowd, wondering of all these men how many were prepared to stand up against a tyrant like Rainer and imagined very few.
But then his thoughts were broken into by the Judge’s solemn tones declaring the charge that Jess must answer to, that of unlawfully attacking one Joseph Rainer and causing him actual bodily harm.
“How do you plead Mr Harper, guilty or not guilty?”
Jess lifted his head up high and turned to face the judge, “Guilty I guess your Honor and I’d do it again tomorrow too,” he added angrily.
Then Rainer went to great lengths to blacken Jess’s character, saying how he was insolent and obviously of the criminal classes.
“Over ruled. Just stick to the facts Mr Rainer,” the Judge said acidly, “we don’t want a character assassination. After all you have only met the young man fleetingly, who are you to declare who or what he is... um?”
Rainer flushed up angrily, not used to being crossed, but then he met the Judge’s steely glare and backed down.
He then went into great detail into the allegedly unsolicited attack and listed his injuries with relish.
“Uh, so I imagine the defendant was very angry about something, to attack you that way?” the Judge asked.
Rainer looked the picture of innocence and studied the ceiling piously for a moment considering the question, before looking back to the judge, “Well I really can’t think what,” he said, “just looking for trouble I imagine.”
“Why you liar” Jess yelled from the dock, “I laid into ya because you were beatin’ yer poor horse senseless...the critter was terrified and bleedin’ from you whipping him...sure I was dang angry!”
“Enough Mr Harper,” the Judge intoned. “I can see feelings are running high, but you will have your turn to speak shortly. Please continue Mr Rainer.”
Rainer had flushed up at Jess’s outburst, but recovered his composure quickly.
“My horse is of a somewhat nervous temperament and sometimes needs a firm hand, that’s all Judge. As to a whipping that is pure fallacy...all in the defendant’s imagination.”
“Does this look like my darned imagination?” Jess asked furiously, ripping off the dressing covering the deep gash to his cheek.
There was a shocked intake of breath from the court room.
“Mr Harper you are in contempt of my court. That is my final warning,” the Judge said raising a cautioning eyebrow.
There was much muttering and cries of, ‘Too bad...nasty business,’ until the Judge banged his gavel and cried for order.
Finally, it was Jess’s turn to speak.
He explained the situation exactly as it had happened, how Rainer had pushed him aside to get his own mount and had frightened the animal, dragging him out of his stall violently. Then when the horse had reared in terror, used the whip on him. How he’d turned the whip on Jess...hence the wound to his face, and how, yes, he had attacked the man. But he just couldn’t stand by and watch an innocent creature being brutally attacked that way and do nothing.
“Who could?” he asked turning to the courtroom for support.
There was further muttering and cries of “well-done boy,” from the back, until the Judge called for order again.
Further witnesses were called and finally the Judge came to his summing up.
You have heard both the evidence of the defendant and also from Mr Rainer which appears to be conflicting. Mr Rainer insisting that he used only marginal force to restrain his over excited horse and at no time did he whip the animal, or indeed Mr Harper here. The only witness to the alleged attack on the horse and Mr Harper is one Frederick Dunn, who is a good friend of Mr Harper and whose testimony may or may not be colored by that fact. The only other witnesses, Mr Morris and two of his clients Mr Howe and Mr Jacob only witnessed the vicious attack by the defendant, to which he has admitted. So, unless there are any mitigating circumstances, we may have overlooked I would ask the jury to retire and consider their verdict.”
He was just about to rise when the court usher rushed over and had a whispered consultation with him.
The Judge looked rather bemused and then nodded.
“Ladies and gentlemen of the court, there has been fresh evidence submitted apparently another uh...witness I suppose you could say...who is unable to attend this hearing. I will have to leave the courtroom for a few minutes to uh...see him,” and with that the usher called for all to rise and the Judge left the room.
Outside he was greeted by Freddy, Mr Morris and Doc Shawn Walsh, the town Horse doctor. Tethered to the hitching rail stood Mouse. His ears were flicking nervously at all the attention as the Judge looked on in horror at the multiple open wounds to the horse’s neck and body.
“Worst dang case of animal cruelty I have ever seen, my Lord,” Doc Walsh said, “and inflicted by Rainer I have no doubt. This isn’t the first time I’ve had to tend one of his mounts and he insisted that there was always a logical reason for a sore, or injury...but now this... well,” and he shook his head sadly.
“There is absolutely no doubt that these injuries were inflicted very recently and just as the boy Harper described it. Plus, I would back the evidence of young Freddy here to the hilt. I’ve known him all his life and his daddy before him and never was there a more honest and upright family. I figure the person that should be in that dock is Rainer, not the Harper kid.”
The Judge had turned pale when he saw the terrible injuries that had been inflicted and his shock turned to anger as the usually impartial man gently patted the poor ill-used critter.
He finally took a deep breath and turning to Freddy said, “I am confiscating this animal and putting him in the permanent care of yourself and young Harper, where I know he’ll get the best of care. I’ll have a document drawn up for you to sign.”
“As to you Doctor Walsh if I can have a written statement that should suffice, thank you. Oh, and we will be prosecuting of course.” He turned on his heel and marched back into the courtroom.
He moved back to his desk at the front of the room and the usher called for all to stand.
The Judge could barely look at Rainer, such was his anger...
He took a deep breath and said firmly, “In the light of fresh evidence the case is dismissed. You have no case to answer Mr Harper and you walk free from this court without a stain on your character.”
There was a loud cheer and folk started chattering animatedly.
The Judge called for order again and then finally turned to face a furious looking Rainer.
“You Mr Rainer though face charges of perjury under oath and the little matter of causing severe suffering to an animal in your charge and assaulting one Mr Jess Harper.”
“Take him away Sheriff, “he finished.
Then he turned back to a now puce Rainer and said, “Oh and I would advise you that maybe you should employ a good lawyer Mr Rainer, it looks like you’ll need one.”

Chapter 5
Jess was the hero of the hour. Now the tyrant Rainer was behind bars, all those he’d bullied during the previous years gave a huge sigh of relief. Even the Sheriff came and shook Jess’s hand and said, “Well-done son...uh Jess.” The following day Jess and Freddy where at last able to sit at the Morris’s table and enjoy a second Christmas dinner. But this time under much more hospitable circumstances however.
It was with sadness that Jess eventually left in the spring and renewed his quest to find the elusive Bannisters. But he was never to forget the kindness shown to him that Christmas by Mr and Mrs Morris and the friendship he had forged with young Freddy.
When Jess rode out, he’d told Freddy that he could keep Mouse for himself. “I know he’s in good hands, you’ll care for him good,” he’d said, “and I’ve got Traveller.”
Freddy had beamed at him and patted the now docile, friendly animal, “You know I will Jess...you take care now you hear?”
Just a few short months later Jess had signed up as a boy soldier with the Confederacy. He was to take part in some terrible bloody battles, be injured and captured twice, escaping the first time. But for all that, he found a comradely and deeply loyal friendships with the men he met there. They taught him a valuable lesson too, the ability to laugh at himself.
He had got away with lying about his age and if he was honest the enlisting officer was none too particular as long as the recruits looked sound in wind and limb. It was on the first evening at the makeshift barracks that one of the other new volunteers started teasing Jess.
He was sitting in the rough cabin polishing his new issue boots until he could see his face in them and the guy on the next bunk grinned at him and said jokingly, “So which is it then cowboy. Are you trying to impress the officers or ain’t you ever owned new boots before?”
Jess looked down and then up at the other, his eyes narrowed and his jaw tight, “I ain’t ever had new boots,” he replied, “so you wanna make something of it...huh?”
Dave Brown grinned across at the angry kid and said, “Nope I guess I don’t.”
Then Jess relaxed and grinned back, “Sorry...sore point...I’ll tell ya about it someday.”
He and Dave became firm friends and Jess soon learned to take the gentle teasing and banter of the other men in his stride. They in turn watched his back, knowing he was probably way too young to enlist.
But there was something about Pte Jess Harper, as the Sergeant said to his buddy one evening.
“He’s the youngest of the lot and yet he’s got this...uh I dunno sort of inner resolve. He can be real ornery, quite a handful in fact, but he’s got guts I’ll say that for him. I guess the boy will either end up a hero ...or dead, time will tell.”
It had been eight long months since that day and Jess had sure proved his worth, actually saving the Sergeant’s life when a sniper had attacked. He was popular with the other men and was known to fight hard and play hard too, not being averse to the odd whiskey if it was offered.
It was just two days before Christmas when his platoon had been sent to blow up a bridge in the Unionist held area. They had accomplished their goal but suffered many casualties as they limped back behind their lines to recoup and lick their wounds. Jess had lost a couple of good friends and he and Dave were bloodied and weary. The platoon was headed for a safe base where they were to meet up with another platoon from Texas and stand down for a few days until fresh orders came through.
When the small group finally arrived, the other detachment was already established, had a fire going and the welcome smell of stew hung on the air.
Jess took Traveller over to where a line of horses were tethered and then stopped in amazement as the horse next to where he’d just roped Traveller was none other than Mouse.
Jess tore back to the encampment where some twenty odd men were milling about, some already seated by the fire, others chatting away, drinking a welcome beer and relaxing.
Jess peered into the shadowy camp. There was no moon, just the light from the fire and a few flickering lanterns.
“Fred...hey Freddy are you here?” he yelled.
A minute later a redheaded boy, with freckles stood up from where he was seated by the fire and turning said, “That’s me, what do ya want?”
Jess ran over, “It’s me Freddy, it’s Jess!”
The two jumped around laughing and hugging and generally acting like the kids they still were, grinning with delight at finding a friend in all the chaos and confusion of a war.
“Remember this time last year; you’d been thrown in jail!” Freddy said chuckling.
“Jeez of course it’s Christmas Eve ain’t it!” Jess said in amazement. I’d clean forgotten with all that’s been goin’ on.
Freddy looked down, “Yes I heard your lot took a battering...lost half your men didn’t you on that bridge mission?”
Jess nodded, “Some real good guys yeah. But we blew the damn thing to blazes...at least they didn’t die in vain.”
They sat quietly before the fire smoking and looking into the middle distance for a while dwelling on the unremitting horror and drudgery of war. That is until someone yelled grub was up and someone else passed a jug of ale around and the atmosphere lightened.
That night was one Jess would remember all his life.
The men had enjoyed a good hot meal and now were set to enjoy themselves as the jug was passed around and later a few bottles of Moonshine. As ever there were a few men who brought out a fiddle, guitar or penny whistle and soon a good singsong was in progress.
Later the squad trumpeters and fife and drummer boys joined in with hymns and carols. The strains of the ever-popular Deck the Halls and Come all Ye Faithful hanging in the still crisp air. Eventually patriotic songs took over as the men grew steadily more nostalgic as the levels in the bottles lowered.
They had just belted out The Blue Flag,
We are a band of brothers, and native to the soil,
Fighting for our liberty with treasure, blood, and toil;
And when our rights were threatened, the cry rose near and far,
Hurrah! For the Bonnie Blue Flag, that bears a single star.
When far off in the distance they heard the faint sound of another group of revelers singing a Union song.
The men turned and grinned at each other before launching into a lively rendition of Dixie.
They continued batting back and forth their battle songs, the atmosphere one of hilarity as the two groups of men tried to out-sing each other.
The old Sergeant chuckled and said to his friend, “We’d save a good few lives iffen we could resolve the whole dang war this way,” before shaking his head and looking over at his men.
He looked at young Harper, just a kid really, but a damn fine marksman and one he’d have watching his back any day of the week...Then across to the two boy drummers, what maybe ten or eleven years old and shook his head Goddamn this war,” he muttered to himself.
Then he sighed deeply before addressing his men, “OK lads one for the road and then it’s time to turn in.”
There was a quick consultation and then the musicians launched into ‘Home Sweet Home.’
There wasn’t a man or boy there who wasn’t suddenly transported back to their home and their loved ones waiting for them back there. Jess thought about Francie and Millie. He remembered his Ma and Pa and the babies who he would see no more...his heart deeply saddened at the thought. Then on glancing around him he saw his loss and sorrow etched on the faces of all around him.
The song finally came to an end...but just faintly on the breeze they could hear the refrain taken up by the Union Army.

*****Back in the real world at the Ranch*****
Slim sat at the bedside and watched his pard intently as a single tear escaped his eye and ran down the side of his face.
Just at that moment Daisy entered the sickroom bearing some clean bedding.
Slim looked up eagerly and nodded to Jess’s damp cheek, “Look Daisy, seems something’s upset him...but anything’s got to be a good sign huh?”
Daisy put down the clean washing and came over, gently wiping Jess’s cheek with a finger and giving him a loving look before turning to Slim.
“It looks like he’s been dreaming and a very sad one by the looks of things,” she said quietly.
“But that’s got to be good huh?” he said again, his eyes full of hope, “shows his brain’s still working OK, he’s still in there someplace huh Daisy?”
“I sincerely hope so, yes dear,” she replied, avoiding his eyes and the need for reassurance.
“But you think not necessarily so, huh?”
Her head dropped and then she looked at Slim properly before gesturing he come away from the bed, to the other side of the room.
“I nursed a few men with head injuries leading to coma in the war,” she said softly, “and one man I remember said he did indeed have very vivid dreams and also occasionally, ‘swam to the surface’ as he termed it. Then he was able to hear all that was going on around him...he told me all this when he finally recovered after a week in a deep coma.”
“Well there you are then,” said Slim smiling fondly down at her.
Daisy sighed, knowing she must be honest and not give false hope.
“But not all cases were the same Slim. It depends on how badly the brain is injured. We also had men who woke up and never spoke again or couldn’t walk...others who...well lost all capacity to communicate...so you see anything could happen really, we must prepare ourselves for that.”
“What?” said Slim, forgetting to moderate his tone, “you mean he could wake up simple or unable to walk or talk?”
“Hush dear, that’s the worst case. We must just wait and pray.”
Slim turned away and looked at his buddy with something akin to despair in his gentle blue eyes.
“No Daisy, that can’t happen,” he said softly, before turning back to her.
“We talked about this once and Jess said when it was his time he just wanted to go fast and clean, from a bullet or falling from one of those dang mustangs. Ha, I guess that’s what did for him really, falling from that crazy horse. He wanted a quick death though, not this way Daisy...not a living hell like this.”
Then they heard Mike and young Billy chatting away outside the window, discussing how they were off to find some holly to deck the porch as Jess had mentioned the week before.
“Life must go on dear,” Daisy said reaching out and clasping his hand, “and Jess wouldn’t want it any other way, you know that. Now pin a smile on that handsome face of yours and go cut some holly with the boys, I’ll sit with Jess awhile.”
Slim threw his pard one last sad glance before patting Daisy’s arm and taking his leave.
It seemed that the world and his dog had the same idea of visiting the holly thicket just off the Laramie road near the ranch. Friends and neighbors, indeed mere acquaintances, came over and asked after the health of his buddy until Slim felt he could bear it no longer. They all meant well, sure they did, but even so the constant quizzing was trying him sorely as he fought to maintain a positive cheerful attitude for Mike’s sake.
Therefore, Slim was in no mood to mince his words as they returned to the ranch and met Mort Cory just riding through the gate.
“I just rode over to check on Jess,” the Sheriff said cheerfully, as Slim reined in beside him.
“Garldarn it, has nobody gotten anything better to do around these parts than check up on my partner!” he spat angrily.
Mort drew back looking hurt, “Slim?”
After a moment Slim flushed up and dipped his head, before tipping his hat back and looking his friend in the eye, “Sorry...sorry Mort, just getting to me a bit, time for a coffee?”
Slim sent the boys off to stash their holly away under a tarp until they could start their project the next day and he led Mort over to the porch, before wandering off to find the coffee pot.
It was exceptionally warm and sunny for the time of year and the two men stretched out their legs and relaxed in the porch chairs sipping their coffee.
After a while Mort turned to his old friend and said quietly, “No change then? Or hell, don’t tell me he’s worse Slim?”
Slim shook his head, “Nope he’s not worse, not yet anyway,” and then he repeated exactly what Daisy had said.
Mort gave a low whistle, “Jeez, I’m real sorry to hear that Slim, that’s just too bad. He always said when his time came, he wanted...”
“I know,” Slim cut in, “I know Mort...”
They sat in silence for a while and then Mort said softly, “I guess you’ll be cancelling the caroling on Christmas Eve and the Christmas Day meal. I’ll put the word around for you, shall I?”
Slim looked off to the distant snow-capped mountains his face impassive for a moment before turning to his old friend, “Nope, no don’t do that, everything goes ahead as normal.”
“But...I mean with Jess so sick and all?”
Slim shook his head, “It’s what he’d have wanted...Hell what I’m sure he does want! I aim to make it the best dang caroling we’ve ever had...because Jess will want to come and join in when he wakes up.”
Mort shook his head sadly, “Dontcha mean if Slim?”
But Slim shook his head a new resolve in his eyes, “Nope, when Mort. You see I can’t do it, can’t give up on him and I won’t. He’ll be awake for Christmas Day; you mark my words.”

****Back in Jess’s World****
He was aware of Daisy’s reassuring presence and he sensed sadness about her as she sat beside him. Her usual happy banter was gone and she seemed to be talking very softly. He strained his ears to hear and then suddenly realized she was praying.
Jeez things must be pretty dang bad he thought...suppose, just suppose he really weren’t gonna make it. But no, he couldn’t think that way and he turned his mind back to his quest, that of seeking Christmas.
After the war ended there was a tremendous feeling of relief, of course there was. But also, something else. As the troops disbanded and went their separate ways Jess was left feeling almost bereft. Sure, they’d all gone on a drinking spree and promised to keep in touch, if ever yer in Kentucky... Alabama... Texas...you look me up you hear, his many friends said.
But he knew in his heart of hearts he’d never have that closeness, that feeling of belonging and comradely with a group of young men again.
Maybe that’s why he looked to gangs to try and get that old feeling of belonging back again...The gangs that led him to a life of petty crime starting with high spirits and drinking too much, shooting up towns and terrorizing the inhabitants with their raucous ways. But eventually leading to lawlessness and a taste of prison cells.
He had grown increasingly frustrated at his lack of progress in running the Bannisters to ground. That was partly why he got caught up with so many less than law abiding characters. He found himself running with many different wild gangs. Most of them made up of young men, like himself, desperately seeking that camaraderie and friendship they had found in their brothers in arms during the war.
Some were just boisterous exhibiting high spirits by shooting up quiet towns, getting drunk and causing the odd night of bedlam…before sleeping it off in the town jail and moving on again. Jess, who already had a reputation as a real fast draw, was welcomed into any gang with alacrity and he had to admit that he enjoyed some crazy fun times.
He’d been home and knew there was nothing left for him there. Nearly all the folk he knew were dead or moved away, homes in ruins and crops left to rot in the fields. While the men who had planted them lay beneath the earth on some distant battle field.
He was feeling angry and if he was honest kinda lonely when he met up with a gang of ex-soldiers all feeling as bad as he was. They were a hard-drinking fast shooting bunch with no ambition above causing mayhem wherever they went. They would ride into small towns drink too much, chase any obliging woman in sight and then shoot the place up before moving on.
The routine was beginning to wear kinda thin with Jess and he was getting heartily sick of waking up with a perpetual hangover. He wasn’t interested in paying for sex and just having one-night stands before moving on to the next conquest; and he was sure gettin’ real sick of bein’ asked to sell his gun to the highest bidder.
Sure, he wanted to work, indeed needed to as his funds were practically none existent, but he refused to be a pawn in the frequent range wars, or be dragged into a life of crime. He’d already been in way too much trouble in his young life and seen the inside of too many cells and now he just felt the need for a break and some peace.
So it was that Jess and the Hendry Gang arrived in a small Texas town one Christmas Eve. The town was pretty lively before they arrived but a dang sight more once they commenced with their fast drinkin’ pretty talkin’ ways. They’d taken over the main saloon and all the girls were vying for business with these new guys in town.
They’d been hitting the red-eye all afternoon and had pretty much decided to move on to the next town along. It was bigger, with more saloons, prettier gals and a whole mess of places to stay iffen they decided too, according to Marty Hendry the gang leader.
Jess hung his head and leaned on the bar peering into his drink and thought he really couldn’t be bothered. One town was pretty much like the next and Christmas here or there made no difference either. They’d all end up drunk as skunks, staggering back to their filthy Boarding house rooms before crashing out dead to the world...what was the point?
So, when just five minutes later Marty slapped him on the back and said, “We’re leaving now buddy,” Jess said, “No.”
Marty squinted at him drunkenly and said, “Wha?”
“Goddamn it I said no!” Jess yelled, “I ain’t goin’ with ya, I’m sick of this doggone life.”
Marty snorted drunkenly, “Aw c’ mon Jess you don’t mean that, we need ya. Me, Rudy and the others count on you when the chips are down...you and that ol’ Colt of yours.”
“Yeah,” Jess replied angrily, “that’s all I am to you guys ain’t it, a fast gun?”
“Hey Jess that ain’t true,” he said draping an arm around his shoulders, “we go way back to the war and Virginia don’t we and all that happened there.”
“Yeah, but the war’s over Marty and we hafta move on. We can’t go pissin’ about like idiots gettin’ drunk and shootin’ up towns all the time ...we hafta...change... do somethin’ with our lives.”
Marty’s bloodshot eyes seemed to flicker and look slightly dazed at this new notion...before he said, “You know where to find us. We’ll be there a few days. You have a break buddy and we’ll see ya later, huh?”
With that he rallied the other five members of the gang and just minutes later Jess heard random shots fired as they announced they were leaving town.
He sighed deeply and then picking up his bottle retreated to the back of the room to think.
Hell, he sure was ready to move on...but where? There had been no sightings of the Bannisters for weeks. Maybe they’d all perished in the war he thought, although he couldn’t imagine any of them fighting, unless they’d been conscripted. No, they were out there some place he figured and he’d get them eventually.
He sank another shot of whiskey and then looked at the saloon door on the far side of the room and figured if he had just one more, he wouldn’t make it...
Nope time to call it a night and make for the livery where he hoped he’d be able to bunk down with Traveller.
He managed to maneuver his way across the crowded bar, paid for his drinks and then lurched towards the saloon door.
Once the bitterly cold night air hit him, he was done for and he subsided onto the handy bench right by the entrance.
He sat there for some time, considering his options. Spend the night stretched out there and welcome the Christmas morn as a drunk. Or make his way carefully down Main Street and join Traveller in his stall. Where at least he would be free of humiliation and hopefully a tad warmer. He pulled up his jacket collar against the bitter wind and prepared to drag himself up.
Then he heard it...
The sound of angelic voices, wafting up the street from the Church a couple of blocks away.
He suddenly had a deep need to attend. His Ma always took them to Church on Christmas Eve, when she could. Now he felt a yearning for the age-old traditions of his childhood Christmas, this being one of the rare good ones.
It seemed real important that he should make it. That he could walk the few blocks and do what his dear old ma would have wanted and maybe, just maybe he’d find what he was seeking...Christmas.
He sighed deeply and hauled himself up from the bench and started off for the Church.
By the time he’d made it the Service was in full swing so he sank down on an empty pew at the back and let the singing and the lessons and prayers flow over him.
When he finally awoke it was to the quizzical gaze of a young Pastor, leaning over him.
“I um...wonder if you would care to partake of some good warming soup, this merry Christmas Eve,” he asked cheerfully.
Jess groaned slightly and sat up from where he’d fallen asleep, stretched out on the hard pew.
“Huh?” he asked peering bleary eyed at the cleric.
“Soup old chap, good freshly baked bread too, just out at the back of the Church? Come on please,” he said taking Jess’s arm and hauling him up.
Jess’s brain was still befuddled by the strong drink and consequent deep sleep, and so it seemed easier to just do as he was bid than argue.
The cold night air, this time, had a somewhat sobering effect and he went and joined the line of other ‘down and outs’ to receive the free handout. Normally he would have stoutly refused what he saw as charity. But he hadn’t eaten since breakfast and he found that he was actually incredibly hungry.
He had been given a mug of hot chicken soup and a hunk of bread and after mumbling his thanks turned away and went and sat on an upturned barrel to eat and drink.
Sometime later a young woman came around with a jug and topped everyone up... Jess again said, “Thank you,” without meeting her gaze...but then there was a sudden exclamation.
“Why it’s you isn’t it, young Jessie Harper! You’re Francie’ s kid brother?”
Jess’s head shot up and he found himself looking directly into the kind brown eyes of Jenny, Francie’ s best friend at school and their doctor’s youngest daughter.
“Heck Jenny what are you doin’ here?” he asked in surprise.
“Well I’m married to the Pastor,” she said chuckling in delight. Then, “Oh Jess it’s so good to see you. You must stay for Christmas. Please say you will!”
Jess immediately shook his head, “Nope it’s a family time, you don’t want me cluttering’ up the place. Besides I’m hardly dressed for partying,” he added, casting a glance down at his scruffy travel worn garments.
“Nonsense,” she said quickly, “it’s you I want to talk too...and it doesn’t bother me how you look, silly boy,” she added in the straight-talking way Jess remembered so well.
“I don’t need no charity Jenny,” he said stubbornly, now turning away.
But she was too fast for him and grabbing his arm she turned him back towards her.
“You really don’t change, do you?” she said now openly beaming at him. “You always were so darned independent even as a young tyke.”
“And you always said exactly what you thought,” he replied, now smiling too despite himself.
“Golly, I know,” she said rolling her eyes, “and didn’t it get me into some scrapes? Remember that time I cheeked that bully Hugh Jacks and he went to slap me...but then you came to my rescue and he backed off really quickly and never bothered me again.”
Jess chuckled at the memory.
“Do stay Jess I’d love to talk over old times... is Francie with you and Wade?”
Jess shook his head. “I dunno where Francie is right now, someone said she’d married during the war, but she didn’t leave no forwarding address. Wade, well folk said he died in the war, but I’m not sure ‘bout that either...ain’t seen him in years.”
“So, you’re all alone here then,” she said, her gaze now full of compassion.
“I guess,” Jess said, about to add he was dang well used to that and it was no big deal, but she was too quick for him.
She looked up and saw an elderly woman advancing on them carrying a sweet baby. “That’s all settled then,” she said quickly.
“You remember my mother don’t you and this is my Lily, just six months old,” she added smiling proudly.
Jess turned and touched his hat to her Ma and winked at the baby.
“We’re a full house so you will have to share with my little brother Gil, but you won’t mind, will you?”
It seemed like things had been taken out of his hands and all he could do was say, “No ma’am that would be just fine and thank you.”
As it turned out he had a wonderful day with plenty to eat and drink and convivial company. He was a similar age to Gil and after lunch the two young men headed to the saloon for a couple of drinks, before going back to the evening party.
“Your sis is real happy in this set up ain’t she?” Jess said over a beer at the bar with Gil.
“What, being married to Bill, with him being a Pastor and all? Yup suits her down to the ground she can be as bossy as all get out and get away with it,” he said grinning.
“She’s done well, made a good life for herself and she’s a Ma too,” Jess said shaking his head and grinning in wonder.
Gil nodded, “Yup she’s a good gal Jen, her heart’s in the right place I guess.”
Jess agreed, “So you’ve done well too, workin’ in the bank and all?”
Gil nodded, “Yup, I’m just a teller right now but Mr Brown...the boss that is, he says I’ve got potential and I’ll do well iffen I stick at it.... So how about you Jess. What have you been up to since the war?”
Jess took a long pull of his beer and looked down before looking up and replying honestly. “Been on the drift Gil, just can’t seem to settle anyplace...kinda fiddle footed I guess...and....” he looked down again and said no more.
“And what Jess?”
“Uh, well I guess I’m still lookin’ fer the Banisters...I need revenge you see Gil. But I figure that wouldn’t sit any too well with you and your family, being real religious...I figure you think I should forgive them huh?”
Gil shook his head, “I guess that would be a real big ask for any man Jess...that was a terrible business... your kin shouldn’t have died that way.”
“No, they damn well shouldn’t,” Jess agreed bitterly, “and I aim to git justice fer them iffen it’s the last thing I do Gil.”
Gil clapped him on the shoulder, “Well I for one don’t blame you,” he said sincerely. “Come on let’s have another beer and then we’d better get back before sis misses us,” he said with a roll of his eyes.
The whole of Christmas Day was a delight to Jess. From watching the baby play with her new doll, to the lively Church Service and the wonderful meal. He felt truly blessed to be accepted into the family celebrations. To be made to feel like the old family friend he was and not some hard luck case. He laughed and chatted with his old family doc and wife and enjoyed teasing Jenny and some good banter with her husband Bill and young Gil.
Jess was to look back at that brief interlude with gratitude. He had time and space to review his life and he made plans to carry on his vendetta alone, leaving Marty and the Hendry Gang for good. He left town the following day feeling refreshed and with hope in his heart. He’d find those bastards, finish things, and then find him a real good job and settle down he decided. Maybe Canada, the living was good there for fur traders or loggers, so he heard, and maybe a fresh start well away from Texas was what he needed.
But it was to be many a long year before that finally came to fruition and he found his way to the Sherman spread and finally settled down.

Chapter 6
***Meanwhile Back at the Ranch***
It was now just a few days before Christmas and plans were still going ahead for the usual celebrations, although Slim’ s heart really wasn’t in it. Daisy had explained that it was too late to back out now and anyway they still had to think of Mike and his needs.
“He seems to be accepting the fact that Jess is just resting and will be better eventually,” she said quietly to Slim at breakfast one morning, “and who are we to disillusion him. Certainly not now just before Christmas anyway.”
Slim hung his head, “It just doesn’t seem right having the house full of folk making merry when my pard’ s at death’s door,” he said, his blue eyes full of pain.
“Well that’s not true dear, he’s still taking fluids and his vital signs are good, so he still stands a chance.”
“Sure, but what are the odds?” he asked belligerently, “a hundred to one against or what Daisy huh?”
She looked down and said nothing and a moment later he reached across the table and took her hand squeezing it gently.
“Gee I’m sorry Daisy. It’s getting to me that’s all. Seeing him just lying there day after day...so still, so quiet...” he finished and swallowed hard closing his eyes for a moment.
“I know dear,” she said squeezing his hand back, “but we have to be brave and carry on and just hope for the best and maybe by some miracle he’ll be able to get back from this ...come home to us.”
When he said nothing she said, “I um...need some supplies from town and maybe you could call in and see Millie, give her an update I know how worried she is at the moment. She’s here as often as she can be, I know...the poor love is ready to give up her job and move in to help care for him. But that wouldn’t really help. I believe keeping working is probably the best for her at the moment...explain to her if you can dear?” she said.
“And what do I say?” he asked bleakly.
“Just that he’s no worse and we all aim to rally around over Christmas, spending time with him. Maybe that’s what he needs to stimulate him back to consciousness,” she said suddenly looking animated, “Some of our friends visiting and talking to him for a little while? She’ll have plenty of opportunity to be with him then and it could just do the trick.”
“Maybe we could get the Parson to give one of his fire and brimstone addresses,” Slim said with the ghost of a smile, “that should bring him round, if only to tell the old guy to button it.”
Daisy smiled, “And he would, too wouldn’t he?”
She gave his hand another quick squeeze, “You go to town dear and get the messages and call in on the Sheriff too. You need some male company and a change of scene.”
Slim looked wary, “I don’t know, I don’t want to be too far away right now...in case...uh, you know?”
“Nothing will happen to him I promise you dear. You are in real need of a break and besides I’ve run out of flour,” she added triumphantly. “So, if you want any pastry baking, you’ll need to scoot.”
*******
So it was later that day that Slim found himself sitting in the saloon downing a welcome beer and reminiscing with the Sheriff.
“I don’t know what it is about your Partner,” Mort said dryly, “but he always seems to land himself in trouble at this time of year, have you ever noticed?”
“Haven’t I just,” Slim said shaking his head and throwing his friend a grim smile.
“Remember the time he was driving the Stage and they got snowed in and he ended up helping deliver a baby?”
Mort chuckled, “Yup very festive a Christmas baby being born. Then another time the darned Stage was caught in a landslide and he and all the passengers had to spend Christmas at that old abandoned ranch.”
Slim shook his head, “And Daisy and Mike insisted on having a second Christmas Day, just for old Hot-Shot,” he said smiling at the memory.
Then he sobered, “He told me all about Christmas on the drift you know. Heck sometimes he didn’t even know it was Christmas. Other times he was riding in a gang and they just shot up a town and got crazy drunk...another time he spent the day in jail.”
“So, what are you saying?” Mort asked giving him a concerned look.
“Well just that now...when he’s got his life together, a beautiful girl,” he said nodding to where Millie was busy down the bar, “good friends...and dang it this has to happen to him.”
Mort looked down and sighed deeply, “You really don’t think he’s going to make it do you buddy?”
“Sh,” Slim said abruptly glancing over to where Millie was still engaged drawing pints.
“Well do you?”
Slim shook his head, “I just don’t know Mort. You haven’t seen him recently; he’s just so damn skinny and pale. Lies there so still...he’s never still you know that. Always on the move, wisecracking or being dang ornery... but Jeez Mort I’d take him any way right now if only he’d wake up,” and he dropped his head unable to go on.
Mort sat there for a moment unsure as to what to do or say.
Eventually he gave him an awkward pat on the shoulder, “Don’t go giving up on him yet Slim, the boy’s made of tough stuff, you know that. Everything he’s been through this far has dang well made sure of that hasn’t it huh?”
“I guess,” Slim said inhaling a deep breath and taking another pull at his beer.
“I just wish I knew what was going on in his head...what he’s thinking, if he’s just dreaming or really hearing us.”
“I guess he’ll tell us when he finally wakes up,” Mort said with a confidence he wasn’t really feeling.
“Maybe,” Slim said quietly, “maybe.”
Then after a moment he rallied, “You’ll drive the girls over Christmas Eve as planned?”
“Yup, Tom’s given Lily and Millie a few days off, says he’s closing and iffen anyone wants to get drunk over the special time of our Lord’s birth, then they’re welcome to go do it at the Last Drop,” Mort said grinning.
That was a low dive at the edge of town frequented by drunks and ladies of the night and no self-respecting family man would be seen dead there.
“I guess it’s going to be a pretty dry few days for some folk then,” Slim said reflectively.
“Won’t do ‘em any harm,” Mort replied, “less work for my Deputy anyway.”
“I’ll have the ladies there by mid-morning so they can help Daisy with the preparations OK?”
Slim nodded the thought of seeing his girl Lily the only light on the horizon.
He threw back the rest of his beer in one, “I’d better be off Mort, I don’t want to be away too long, ya know?”
“Sure, sure and uh Slim, say howdy to Jess from me and tell him I expect to see him sitting up and taking notice OK? I’ll be bringing a bottle of Denver James’ best over as usual.”
Slim gave his friend a little punch on the arm, “I’ll tell him Mort...and thanks.”
Then he touched his hat to Millie and strode out.

Chapter 7
*****Back in Jess’s World*****
Jess was still drifting between semi-consciousness and some sort of twilight world where nothing made too much sense. He wasn’t sure if he was dreaming or maybe in some kinda other world. Wherever he was he knew dang well he couldn’t get back. Not, that is, until he’d found Christmas, so he had to keep on searching. He thought back to those days when he was on the drift again...
He had traveled far and wide seeking the Bannisters he remembered that. He’d joined up with other gangs, far worse than the Hendry Gang and got into way more trouble, spending time in jail. Even felt the hangman’s noose around his neck, but thankfully was eventually found not guilty of the alleged crime.
He’d progressed onwards, moving slowly north and now he was somewhere around Kansas he guessed and it was some two years or so before he arrived at the Sherman ranch.
He’d had to leave the last big town in something of a hurry when the Sheriff there decided to make Jess a scapegoat for pretty much every crime in the town. He’d declared on their first meeting that he disliked and didn’t trust strangers...’and weren’t that the truth,’ Jess said bitterly to Traveller as he rode out one bright morning, heading for the next big town a good few miles north.
Maybe because it had been such a mild fall and winter, so far, that he became somewhat disorientated as to the time of year.
It was sunny and pretty mild and Jess, who hadn’t had occasion to look at a calendar or paper recently, assumed it was still November and a pretty fine one too. So it came as quite a shock to him, to discover it was nearly Christmas.
It was the sudden change in the weather that was his downfall. Overnight it changed from almost balmy, unseasonably warm weather to a bitter storm. The wind lashed the trees and then he discovered his rain slicker was full of holes and he was quickly soaked to the skin by the heavy rain.
He was out in the open and had to ride on into the night before he found a place even halfway decent to camp. Eventually he led Traveller down a steep gully out of the wind and they hunkered down as best they could, his horse with his rump to the weather, head hanging in exhaustion.
But there was no dry kindling to make a fire and eventually shivering and wrapped in his bedroll he finally fell into an exhausted sleep...
The following day was little better with a steady drizzle falling from leaden skies and a chilly wind playing around them.
He knew if he carried on heading north, he should arrive at Wichita within a week or so and wondered if there was somewhere nearer to hand that he could at least get himself and Traveller dry and warm again. He’d left the last town in such a hurry he had scant supplies too. He’d dined on jerky the night before and now his belly was growling and his temper simmering.
There were no convenient streams or pools for fishing and he hadn’t spotted so much as a jack rabbit since he left town and now, he was feeling slightly light-headed and sickly. However, he doggedly rode on throughout the day, finally reining in as the light began to fail.
He found a place to camp in the lee of some tall pines and was at least able to find dry kindling for a fire and put the coffee pot on. He sat cross-legged gnawing on another strip of jerky before lying down and feeling as miserable as all get out. He seemed to have developed an irritating cough and one moment he felt as hot as blazes and the next icy cold. Resigned to the fact that he’d caught a chill he threw more wood on the fire and settled down for the night, hoping that some sleep would help him recover.
The following morning, he felt too sick to ride and decided to just spend the day sleeping in the hope that he’d shake the illness off.
He awoke later that afternoon and after a moment felt a presence nearby. Snapping his eyes open he found he was looking at the bearded face of a man in his forties, peering curiously back at him.
It only took Jess a split second to draw his Colt and ask warily what the hell the man wanted.
“Whoa take it easy there mister,” the bearded man said pulling back and looking alarmed. “I don’t mean you any harm, I just saw the smoke from your fire and thought I’d come and say howdy. We don’t get too many strangers in these parts.”
Jess looked the man up and down. He was roughly dressed in working clothes and had a wild turkey slung over one shoulder and a hunting rifle over the other, his expression one of interest rather than aggression. Jess finally deemed him no threat and holstered his Colt.
“Sorry,” he muttered “I guess you can’t be too careful out in the Big Open, so you like a coffee?”
The other hunkered down before the fire and once he was sipping some of Jess’s powerful brew said, “I guess it ain’t my place to ask, but you look mighty sick mister, so you going far?”
Jess nodded, “I’m headin’ for Wichita, but I reckon not for a while though. I caught me a chill, got a good soaking the other day.”
The stranger cast a wary eye to the heavens, I shouldn’t be planning to go that far mister, we’ll have snow before the days out.”
Jess too looked skywards and then cussed softly, “I guess I don’t have any choice,” he muttered grimly.
“Well sure you do,” he replied putting out a hand, “Josh White’s the name and you’re welcome to stay at my place for a while, back in town.”
Jess shook the offered hand and grinned, “Jess Harper, glad to know you Josh. Uh, a town you say? I didn’t know there was one any place nearby.”
“Sure, there is…Rockville is just over yonder ridge,” he said pointing off to the west.
“Well is there a hotel, maybe I could stay there?”
Josh shook his head quickly, “No siree you don’t wanna stay there. It’s a real flea pit. Nope you come back with me, besides you don’t want to be stuck in any old hotel over Christmas.”
Jess’s expressive eyebrows arched in amazement, “Christmas you say?”
“Why sure it’s Christmas Eve, didn’t you know?” Josh chuckled. “Heck what do ya think I’m doing with this beauty,” he said holding the turkey aloft, “he’ll be sizzling away in the oven before the day’s out.”
“Well I dunno,” Jess said somewhat hesitantly.
“Come on Jess, you’re sure not going to get better stuck out here in the snow, I’ll saddle up for you, shall I?”
Jess’s eyes narrowed; he sure didn’t like being railroaded into things. But what was the alternative, be stuck out in the freezing weather and feeling real sick.
“OK,” he said eventually, “thanks,” then getting up slowly said, “but I’ll see to my horse myself,” he added firmly.
“Oh sure, sure,” said Josh backing down quickly and turning to retrieve his own mount cropping the grass nearby.
It was nearly dusk and the promised snow slowly drifting down, by the time they made their way down Main Street.
Jess was surprised to see the whole place deserted, no welcoming light shining out from the saloon and all the other buildings shrouded in darkness as well. The only thing moving was some tumbleweed blowing down the street in the slight breeze and the sign by the barber’s shop swinging back and forth, creaking eerily.
“Heck Josh where is everyone?” Jess asked looking around in dismay.
“Oh, they’ll be about someplace,” Josh replied vaguely. “I reckon most folks have gone to the Church Service, but it’s all the way over the other side of town,” he added dismissively.
“Real religious ain’t they,” Jess murmured casting his eye over the rather grim looking saloon again.
“Oh yes, I guess you could say,” Josh replied before urging his horse on to a greater pace.
After a few minutes he reined in outside a shabby looking building on the edge of town. “This is us,” he said, “bring your mount around the back Jess I’ve got a barn out there.”
Jess cast a glance at the rather forbidding down at heel property. There seemed to be just one lamp lit in the front window casting its melancholy dim light out onto the snowy scene without.
“Are your family out at Church too?” Jess asked as they unsaddled and fed their mounts.
“Uh, no, no they’re all about someplace,” he said again looking kinda vague.
Jess was feeling fit to drop by now, the sweat from the fever running down his back and all he really wanted was to be shown a bed and left in peace.
“So, you got kids?” he asked hoping they’d be put to bed soon, knowing the way youngsters tended to get kinda excited at Christmas.
“Yes, I do, Bobby–Joe he’s just turned six and young Emma is two,” Josh said proudly.
Great thought Jess privately, there goes my early night.
“Your wife’s got her hands full then,” he said pinning a smile on his face.
“My Ginny, sure yes, she’s a great Ma though, great wife too,” he added.
“So, do I get to meet them?” Jess asked, now beginning to feel shivery again and in need of a nice warm fire.
Josh didn’t reply but just inclined his head towards the back door, “Come on in Jess,” he said as he marched across the yard throwing open the back door.
Jess didn’t know what he’d been expecting, but it sure as hell wasn’t the scene that greeted him.
Josh threw the door open and went in first to light a lamp illuminating a dismal damp smelling, cold kitchen.
Jess’s hopes of a bright warm cheerful space with the smell of baking lingering in the air were sadly dashed.
Josh seemed not to notice Jess’s disappointment and went on through to another larger room where a rather dispirited fire was smoking but giving out little heat.
“I’ll soon get a good blaze going,” Josh said cheerfully as he bent to throw some more logs on from a basket on the side.
Jess looked around the dimly lit, shabby room. There was dust on every surface and the drapes were torn and dirty.
There were a couple of armchairs and a lumpy old couch opposite the fire and Jess slumped down on this feeling sick and weary, his head pounding and his throat sore.
After a moment Josh turned back to his new friend and gave a low whistle, “You sure don’t look too good Jess. I’ll go find Ginny and see if she can make us some nice warming broth.”
Jess wanted to say forget it just let me sleep, but good manners won out and he nodded his thanks.
He was just nodding off when Josh returned sometime later with two steaming bowls of broth and passing one over said, “There you go chicken broth, cures everything so my old Ma used to say.”
Jess gave him the ghost of a smile, “Yeah mine too,” he agreed and got stuck in to the welcome repast.
“Er is Ginny not joining us?” he asked as he finished the soup.
“No, she sends her apologies, just putting the little ones to bed and then she’s having an early night...busy day tomorrow.”
Jess gave a small sigh of relief, the last thing he felt like doing was making small talk, “I guess I’ll turn in too, if it’s OK for me to bed down on here?” Jess asked indicating the lumpy couch.
“Oh sure, I’ll fetch ya a blanket,” Josh said.
He returned a little later bearing the bedding and a bottle of whiskey.
“Thought we might have a nightcap, seeing as its Christmas and all,” he said throwing the blanket down and fetching a couple of shot glasses from a side table.
Never one to turn down a drink Jess grinned, “OK just the one thanks.”
An hour later and the bottle was three quarters empty, the majority of the strong drink having slid easily down Josh’s throat as he talked nineteen to the dozen, Jess’s frequent yawns seemingly going unnoticed.
“The town seems like it’s seen better days?” Jess said, seeing his vision of an early night evaporating.
“Yup I guess so,” Josh said thoughtfully. “It’s a mining town and things have been kinda slack lately. But I’m sure it will pick up in the New Year. They’re starting a new project sinking a new shaft next week.”
“So, you’re a miner then?”
Josh nodded, “Me and my daddy before me, it’s a good life Jess.”
He said nothing, just looked around the rather squalid house and the memory of the shabby deserted town and figured it sure weren’t his idea of a good life, but wisely kept his opinions to himself.
Finally, when he really thought he couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer a rather inebriated Josh staggered off to bed, still clutching the whiskey bottle.
Jess wondered fleetingly what sort of reception he would get turning up in that state to the marital bed...but before he could decide he fell into an exhausted sleep.
The first thing Jess thought when he awoke the following morning was that his dear old Ma was never wrong. The chicken soup had done the trick and he was feeling much better.
He stretched out the kinks from sleeping on the lumpy old couch and then listened intently...utter silence. He glanced out through the threadbare drapes and saw the sun was up so it was well past dawn. So where were the joyful shouts of youngsters opening their Christmas stockings he wondered?
He sniffed the air and yes, he could smell the distant aroma of a turkey cooking, so things were looking up.
He imagined Ginny would be busy in the kitchen, so he ran his hands through his unruly hair to tidy it a little and made for the kitchen to introduce himself.
The room was deserted and looking even more shabby and dirty in the light of day...the only sign of recent activity, the turkey cooking away overnight in the slow oven.
He started to wander back to the parlor, but on his way passed a corridor with a door wide open. He couldn’t resist peeping in and was surprised to see Josh lying fully dressed spread eagle across and large double bed, but of his wife there was no sign.
He wondered if she was in with the children and seeing another door was ajar he glanced in there too...then he pushed the door open wider and stared in disbelief.
It was obviously a child’s room. There was a small bunk bed and a cot beside it. A large sad looking teddy bear lay in the cot and there were a selection toy soldiers on the other bed...all shrouded in dust and cobwebs.
“What the hell?” he muttered to himself, surely the young ‘uns couldn’t sleep here? But there again the rest of the house was in similar chaos, so maybe they did. He looked at a rather forlorn looking rocking horse and dusty doll’s house before closing the door quietly.
He felt shocked and confused and very much in need of some fresh air and made his way outside.
He checked on Traveller and fed and watered him and then wondered what to do next.
He stood irresolute outside the barn for a few minutes before deciding to walk down through the town. Maybe Ginny and the little ones had gone to Church he thought. The idea of spending some time with others seemed kinda appealing to him. Maybe the company of the other Church goers was just what he needed to diffuse the strange feeling of doom and sadness that seemed to shroud the house he’d just left.
As he walked back down Main Street, he slowly became aware of boarded up buildings, others with windows out, shattered glass littering the boardwalk. There was no sign of any life, save a scrawny looking cat that took one look at him and fled.
He crossed the street to where the saloon bat wing door hung open at a crazy angle and pushing his way in, he stood on the threshold and peered into the dim dank depths of the room.
It was shrouded in dust and cobwebs, the furniture smashed and the bar littered with dusty bottles many of them broken. The all prevailing smell of vinegary old beer making him want to gag.
He backed out and peered up and down the deserted street again.
“Goddamn it,” he said, “it’s a dang ghost town.”
What about the Church he reasoned? That must surely still be open and that must be where Ginny and the kids were too. Because they sure as hell weren’t any other place.
He made his way across a couple of blocks until he saw an imposing spire and made his way quickly towards it.
But there was no welcoming sound of a choir singing carols and no light coming from the ornate windows.
He threw the door open and it creaked loudly in protest.
The building was completely empty, save for a startled bird that flew squawking up to a beam in the ceiling and sat there peering down at the intruder. Jess peered up at it and the irony of the situation wasn’t lost on him...it was a dove.
“I guess you ain’t the dove of peace then,” he said quietly, “because there sure ain’t much in this old town.” He took one last look at the ruined Church before turning away, his last hope of salvaging his Christmas dashed.
He wandered off down the street and then noticed a large graveyard just beyond the Church. It seemed very full for the size of the town and wondering why, he opened the lychgate and started walking around between the various gravestones. A familiar pattern slowly began to emerge... Joe Suggs died of the fever aged 24 years and his wife Hannah aged 21 years, then further along, Daisy Mott succumbed to fever aged 5 years.
He suddenly knew what he was looking for and he increased his pace scanning all the recent graves.... and then he came to it.... freshly dug and with a date about a year previously. Ginny White aged 30 years also Bobby-Joe White aged 6 years and Emma Mary White aged 2 years.
Jess removed his hat and knelt by the graveside and suddenly everything made perfect sense.
After a while he stood up and was just about to leave, with a heavy heart, when he noticed a newer grave, recently dug next to the children. There obviously hadn’t been time to make a proper headstone and the marker merely said Josh White.
Jess stood transfixed...how could that be? Hell, Josh was back at the house sleeping off the whiskey from the night before...wasn’t he?
He felt a wave of nausea, the shock overwhelming. Git a grip Harper he told himself gruffly...
But there was no mistaking the name or the proximity to his wife and children. Could apparitions get drunk as a skunk and put a turkey in the oven before crashing out in bed he wondered...the absurdity of it all making him smile nevertheless.
Then he heard a little cough behind him and spinning around, he drew his Colt in one fluid movement and found himself looking into the red rimmed eyes of Josh White.
For the second time in their acquaintance Jess found himself apologizing and holstering his iron.
Josh tipped his hat at the grave, “That gave you a shock did it?”
Jess looked a tad embarrassed, “I guess so, yeah.”
“My daddy,” he said quietly, “he passed away just a month ago. Ginny and the children just after last Christmas... I ... I just couldn’t accept it you see Jess? This is my first Christmas without them. I couldn’t really believe it, so I pretended all was well...got to nearly believing it too,” he said with a sad smile.
“You sure had me convinced,” Jess said softly. “Gee I’m so dang sorry Josh,” he added feeling just terrible.
“Don’t be,” he said quietly, “it’s helped having you around...I guess I haven’t talked to a living soul in months. The mines all closed, that was bad enough and then cholera hit town and that was it. Those that didn’t die from it moved out...all but me and Pa. He was an invalid and wasn’t well enough to travel, couldn’t walk or talk these last six months.”
Josh sighed and then carefully placed the holly wreath he’d brought on his wife’s grave, talking to her softly for a moment.
Then he stood up and turning to Jess said, “Let’s go home, Ginny would never forgive me if I burnt that dang turkey!”
Surprisingly the day turned out pretty well all things considered.
The meal wasn’t too bad and what they lacked in culinary ability they made up for by drinking copious amounts of whiskey.
They ended up talking long into the night, with Jess uncharacteristically sharing some of his past. This in turn made Josh open up about his grieving, how he’d become way too dependent on the bottle and how he aimed to move on with his life in the New Year.
“Do you really wanna make a fresh start?” Jess asked.
Josh looked off into space, “I reckon it’ll be hard for me Jess real hard leaving them here...but like you said about your kin, there in here, he said tapping his heart and so I guess wherever I go they’ll be with me.”
Jess nodded, “You got any other kin?”
“I sure do a brother over the other side of Wichita, runs a small spread there and always asking me to go into partnership with him...and you know what, I figure I’ll do that very thing.”
Then he lifted his glass, “And something else, this will be the last glass of spirits I ever drink; so, I’d like to make a toast...to friendship. I was sorely in need of a friend and confidant and I figure the Good Lord in his wisdom sent you Jess,” he said grinning and only half jesting.
“To friendship,” Jess said and they chinked glasses.
The two men rode out a few days later making for Josh’s brother’s spread. He was his older brother and had recently had suffered a bout of ill health. Jess was offered a job there helping to get the place back on track, which he accepted happily, staying there until the following spring.
Chapter 8
****Meanwhile back at the ranch****
It was Christmas Eve and preparations for the caroling party were in full swing.
Daisy and the other women folk had prepared a good selection of food and Slim and Mort had taken care of the drink supplies. The porch was looking pretty swish after Mike and Billy’s efforts with the holly trimmings and now it was late afternoon and the guests expected any moment.
Usually Jess and Slim would have ridden out and gone the rounds of the other ranches, but tonight Slim just didn’t have the heart to do it without his pard, even though Mort had offered to accompany him.
Now he and Mort sat out on the porch, the weather being exceptionally mild for December. The snowfall of Jess’s accident had disappeared overnight, to be replaced by dull damp, but much warmer weather. They were listening to the chatter and laughter coming from the new Dutch barn out by the gate to the home pasture. It had been rigged out with trestle tables and old benches for seats. Two of the open sides draped with a huge tarp to keep the heat in and a large open fire pit to one side added to the comfort. The youngsters were already in there allegedly helping the ladies, but mostly getting underfoot.
“Mike seems to be bearing up well,” Mort said casting a glance towards where the youngster was tearing about the place with young Billy Jackson.
Slim shook his head sadly, “He’s got this fool notion that Jess will suddenly be miraculously cured come Christmas morning and be joining in all the festivities as usual,” he said bitterly.
“And you don’t think that’s possible?”
“Hell do you Mort?” You’ve seen him. Not a glimmer of life, it just amazes me he’s lasted as long as he has seeing as he’s not eaten for nigh on two weeks.”
“What does Sam say?”
Slim shrugged, “Where there’s life, there’s hope...but he didn’t say it with too much conviction, Mort.”
“But he still stands a chance Mort persisted, he’s no quitter you know that Slim.”
“I know it,” Slim said hanging his head and sighing deeply.
Then before they could discuss the matter further, they heard the distant sound of singing as the carolers made their way to their final destination.
“Here come the hungry hoards,” said Mort grinning at his friend, “let’s go man the bar before the Parson gets here and helps himself!”
The hustle and bustle raised Slim’ s spirits a little at first. He found he was able to answer inquiries about his pard with a smile and a quick, “He’s about the same, but sure he’ll be on the mend soon, you know Jess.”
This information was received with a concerned smile and all good wishes for a speedy recovery. Whilst most assumed Jess was indeed in no danger, after all the party was going ahead as usual, the more astute had deeper concerns, some asking to visit.
“Uh, no,” Slim had replied quickly, “I don’t think he’s up to visitors, he’s um...resting right now.”
If it was hard on him it was just as hard for Millie.
On her arrival she had sat with Jess for a while until Daisy came in and asked for her help. All Millie wanted to do was to sit and hold Jess’s hand willing him to wake up, however Daisy new better. Certainly, there would be time enough for the girl to keep her vigil over her lover during the next few days. But right now, she needed something to take her mind off the terrible situation. She required a change of scene, some lively banter and the company of others Daisy surmised and as usual she was right.
Millie had reluctantly followed Daisy out to the kitchen and commenced preparing the food along with Lily, but in silence, her thoughts elsewhere. Then Millie had glanced over to dear Daisy and had seen the worry in her old eyes for a moment, quickly to be replaced by an encouraging smile.
She had taken a deep breath and reminded herself that Daisy loved Jess just as much as she did, albeit in a different way, and if Daisy could face things bravely, then so could she. It was only a little while later that Daisy heard the girls giggling together in their usual easy way and gave a sigh of relief, her little plan had worked.
Now the party was in full swing.
Everyone was enjoying the food, drink and most importantly the company of good friends and neighbors.
Slim had been sitting beside Lily playing with his food, the smile he’d pinned on his face growing weaker by the minute.
After a while Lily could bear it no longer.
“Why don’t you go and sit with Jess for a while?” she suggested. “Doc Sam did say all the noise and laughter could filter through and he might just wake if he realized, he was missing a party,” she said with a hopeful little smile.
Slim returned the smile and squeezed her hand, “He did, didn’t he,” he replied, knowing in his heart that Sam had just been trying to lighten a very difficult situation.
As the evening had gone on with so much laughter and fun, he had been feeling increasingly uncomfortable. Why had he allowed this to happen? To fill the ranch with all these raucous folks making merry when his partner was lying at death’s door just yards away.
“Go on, go check on him,” Lily said softly, “I’ll be here when you get back.”
Slim nodded and giving her a brief kiss on the cheek, he rose abruptly and left the party.
He strode across the moonlit yard and into the dimly lit house and entered the bedroom quietly. Tiptoeing to the bed he adjusted the nightlight a little so Jess was illuminated in its soft glow.
Nothing had changed from when he’d looked in an hour or so ago.
Blue was still lying at the foot of the bed, his head on his massive paws and he peered up at Slim, as he entered, his tail waving briefly before settling down again to continue his vigil.
Slim gave him a gentle pat before going to sit on the bedside chair.
The sheets and blanket hadn’t moved an inch since his last visit which was one of the things that Slim found so unsettling. Heck Jess was such a restless sleeper. His bedclothes usually ended up in knots or in a heap on the floor, but now he lay there still as an effigy...and his face as pale and unmoving as carved stone.
His arms where outside the covers and Slim gently felt for a pulse and was encouraged to find it was much stronger than of late and his breathing seemed deeper too.
On impulse he grabbed his arm and squeezing it said, “Come back to us pard...we’re missing you something fierce.”
Was that a slight flicker across Jess’s face or merely a trick of the light?
Slim stared intently at his friend and willed him to wake up.

*****Back in Jess’s World*****
Jess had been swimming in and out of consciousness for the last couple of hours. He had heard the revelers arriving and the joyous singing faintly emanating from the barn. But then he had somehow drifted off again into the strange dreamlike world he currently inhabited.
He seemed to have glided through the years remembering all the previous Christmas’s he’d lived through on his quest to find the real Christmas and now he had arrived at the last one before he had finally landed at the Sherman spread and his life had changed forever.
He was remembering that Christmas Eve so long ago, spent out in the Big Open after an ornery Sheriff had ordered him to leave town. Now he couldn’t recall the reason, but it didn’t really matter.
He’d built a huge fire to keep warm, and after he’d fed and watered Traveller, he’d blanketed and tethered him real close in to the fire, partly for warmth, but also for the company, he had to admit.
It was a lonely spot, the stark shapes of the trees against the white snow, all illuminated by a huge moon and a myriad of twinkling stars. But there was one...one real special one...that was brighter than all the others.
“O star of wonder, star of night,
Star with royal beauty bright,
Westward leading, still proceeding,
Guide us to thy Perfect Light.”
He sang, his strong, slightly slurred, baritone echoing into the silent night, making Traveller’s ears flick. An owl silently launched himself from a nearby tree, flying off in fright. He grinned to himself and took another sip of his coffee, liberally laced with hill whiskey, beginning to make him feel real mellow.
“Go on then, ol’ star,” he mocked. “
Why don’t you lead me to your Perfect Light, huh?”
What did the Good Lord want with the likes of him anyway? He thought bitterly, feeling desolate and abandoned.
Then he suddenly heard it, unmistakably the voice of his Ma, whispering in his ear, like she was sitting right beside him.
He half turned towards the sound, “Ma?” he whispered.
There was nothing there, but the insistent voice continued. “I brought you up better than this, son, mocking the Lord just because you’ve had a bit of bad luck, feeling sorry for yourself.”
He opened his mouth to argue and then snapped it shut again, on two accounts. One he never argued with his Ma, and two, well, what was he doin’ talking to a darned ghost anyway.
‘Remember what I told you, boy, when you were a young ’un, to love the dear Lord, be respectful of him?’
Jess bowed his head. “Sure, Ma,” he whispered, “but life’s kinda hard right now, you know?”
“That’s why you need to take stock then, son. Think what you want above all other and wish for it on that star...the one you’re so swift to mock. You must have belief, son, not just in our Lord to guide you, but in yourself too.”
“Ma, is that really you?”
But the forest was silent save for the lonely cry of a distant wolf and the wind sighing in the pines.
Was that all it had been...the wind in the trees, or his dear Ma? He never knew.
But he’d sure heeded her words...he wished on that old star.
He wished for a safe place to lay his head at night. For friends that he could trust and learn to love like kin and for somewhere to live and work happily, to make the best of his life...to be the best that he could be.
And that wish had come true when he finally drifted onto the Sherman Ranch and Relay some months later.
Sure it hadn’t been plain sailing at first and he chuckled to himself as he remembered his first encounter with Slim Sherman.
How he was taking his ease by the Sherman lake with Traveller hitched to the ‘No Trespassing’ sign. Then how this tall, lanky blonde cowboy had ridden up and ordered him to move on, making his request an order when he aimed his rifle in Jess’s direction. How he’d easily wrestled the gun off the big guy and taken his hand gun too, before riding away and dropping them a few yards off out of reach.
Ha, little did he expect to encounter the irate cowboy again so quickly, when he turned up at the ranch an hour or so later. Jess was already forming a good relationship with young Andy, the kid brother of the tall cowboy...Slim Sherman. With that inauspicious start it was always a mystery to Jess as to why Slim had eventually asked him to stay...and even more of one as to why he accepted. But he had done, and the rest was history...all his hopes and wishes had finally come true.
Now his life was pretty near dang perfect he reflected. He had Slim, Daisy and Mike in his life...in all but name kin to him and the most beautiful loving, special girlfriend in Millie.
But now something was wrong, oh so wrong. Although he was only a breath away from them all he couldn’t make that final leap back to the real world, from this semi-comatose one he seemed to be trapped in. That is not until he’d completed his quest...he still had to find Christmas.
Then he was dreaming again. He suddenly found himself at the edge of the lake. It was night time and bitterly cold with silvery moonlight illuminating a thin sprinkling of snow. He looked across the mirror calm lake with the moonlight shimmering beguilingly upon it. Then up to the hills beyond where the cave was situated. Many a picnic or night fishing camp had been enjoyed up there and now he had an urge to visit it once more.
As he circumnavigated the lake, he became aware of a star rising above him. Significantly brighter and larger than the myriad other stars in the sky it seemed to be hovering above the cave.
Intrigued he moved on at a greater pace until he arrived at the lakeside just below the steep path up to the cave. Now the light from the single star seemed to bathe the whole lake and surrounding area in its all-enveloping radiance.
Puzzled he made his way carefully up the steep hillside until he reached the mouth of the cave and stood on the threshold peering in at the scene set before him.
At first his face was a picture surprise, his quirky eyebrows raised in astonishment. This quickly followed by disbelief and then finally his countenance radiated complete and utter wonder.
A tall bearded man beckoned and he entered before falling to one knee beside the crib.
Then, as he had done so often before, with his baby brother and sister, he offered a finger for the tiny, perfect, infant to grasp.
Lying there so peacefully in his straw bed the baby immediately turned towards him and obliged by grasping his finger and holding it tightly. Then he looked deeply into Jess’s eyes and smiled a beatific smile of pure love and compassion...and that’s when he knew he had finally found Christmas.
The rest of the vision was as a blur. He had looked up and seen the serene love in the Mother’s eyes. She was a young woman, dressed in blue, her gaze never leaving her tiny offspring’s face. Then he saw several other rough and ready working men kneeling by the crib, all with expressions of deep adoration on their weather-beaten faces as they gazed upon the infant.
Eventually one of the men came forwards and taking Jess by the arm gently raised him up and said quietly, “It’s time to go.”
He was struck by an overwhelming feeling of sadness at having to leave...but then, the following words made his heart leap with joy. “You have found what you were seeking and now it’s time to go home Jess,” the man at his side said softly as he led him back to the cave entrance.
Jess looked back one last time at the tableau and taking a deep breath turned away and made his way back down the track, his arm still in the other man’s warm grip, supporting him.
When he reached the bottom of the path he looked out across the moonlit lake and thought his heart might burst with joy. He was going home. But he had seen something so special that night that the wonder of it would remain with him all his life... and now he was homeward bound.
He stood there and took another deep breath, closed his eyes and then he opened them...
He could still feel the grip of the stranger who had so kindly escorted him down the path and he turned his head to thank him and saw Slim sitting there grasping his arm. The look of love and compassion in his eyes oh so familiar.
“Welcome home Jess,” he said softly.
Jess blinked and then looked about him in a dazed silence for a few minutes until Slim was beginning to believe all his fears had come true. Jess’s mind had been irreparably damaged as a result of the accident and ensuing coma.
“Damn it Jess for goodness sake say something,” Slim said his face bleak.
Jess licked his lips and then whispered, “Water?”
Slim immediately filled a glass from a jug by the bedside and gently hauling his buddy up he put the tumbler to his lips and helped him sip the welcome drink.
After a moment or two Jess indicated he’d had enough and relaxed back onto the pillows...
They sat in silence for a little, the strains of O Come All Ye Faithful emanating faintly from across the yard.
Then he turned back to his pard, his voice hoarse and whispered, “Merry Christmas Slim...”
Slim beamed at him and replied in kind, but his words were drowned out by Blue’s manic barking as he heard his master’s voice for the first time in many days.
That in turn alerted Mike, who had been sent to the kitchen on a mission to collect a jug of lemonade for the children. As it happened, he nearly dropped the jug in his haste to run to the bedroom.
“Jess! Jess” he yelled, “I knew it...I just knew it...you’re all well for Christmas ain’t ya!” Hugging his hero and then Blue, he sped off across the yard to the barn to impart the wonderful news.
It took only a few seconds before the bedroom was full of well-wishers. Millie finally broke down in joyful tears whilst Daisy collapsed down on the edge of the bed taking his hand and giving him a motherly, loving smile. Mort and Mose couldn’t stop grinning. Many of the rancher’s wives were in tears as their husbands looked on wondering what all the fuss was about. Old Jess was always getting into hot water, wasn’t he? Always managed to git himself out sooner or later too, they said to each other nodding wisely. It was when the Parson sank to his knees declaring it was a miracle and crying “Hallelujah!” increasingly more loudly that Doc Sam called a halt to the proceedings.
He ordered everyone, save the immediate ‘family’ from the room declaring that he didn’t want his patient to have a relapse at this stage of his recovery. “Not with Christmas Day to look forward to,” he added grinning at Daisy and Millie and winking at Slim and Mike.
Once the room was emptied of their guests Sam gave Jess a thorough examination and declared him to be sound in mind, wind and limb, if some-what dehydrated and malnourished.
“A light diet and plenty of fluids for the next week or two Daisy and we’ll soon have him on his feet again,” the doc declared looking truly delighted.
“Hey Doc, so what about my Christmas dinner then?” Jess croaked looking decidedly indignant.
Sam ignored him and merely turned to Daisy, “Maybe a little Turkey Broth my dear and some nice fresh milk to drink?”
“Huh?” Jess exploded, “Slim, hey Slim do something!”
But his pard had already collapsed with laughter and was in no position to reply.
*******
The party in the barn was finally concluded and their good friends and neighbors had departed their calls of ‘Merry Christmas’ carrying on the still night air as they left.
It wasn’t long after, that the house guests were all bedded down too; with Lily and Millie sharing Mike’s room, whilst the youngster slept on a spare cot in Daisy’s bedroom.
Slim had wished Mort a goodnight and made sure he was comfortable on the parlor couch before he turned in himself.
He entered the room quietly, but was surprised to see Jess wide awake and just staring into space in the dimly lit room.
“I figured you’d be asleep by now,” he said in surprise.
“Dang it, I’ve done nuthin’ but sleep fer the last I don’t know how long,” Jess said in exasperation, “besides I’ve got things to think on,” he added.
“Oh, so what would that be buddy, these things huh?” Slim asked indulgently, sinking down onto the edge of the bed.
Jess shrugged and looked slightly uncomfortable, “You’ll think I’m crazy.”
“Try me.”
He took a deep breath and then said, “I really don’t know where I’ve been these last days...in this uh, coma...but I sure did one heck of a lot of searching.”
“What for...not the Bannisters again Jess? Was it one of your bad dreams that you were having huh?”
“Heck no... No, nuthin’ like that. It was kinda like a dream, but I was in control ya know almost like I could decide what I was dreaming about?”
“Well you did have a nasty crack on that old head of yours Jess, bound to have some kind of weird effects, I guess. After all Sam is always saying we don’t understand the workings of the human brain too well.”
Then he sniggered, “And I guess yours is a complete enigma.”
“Huh?” Jess asked not knowing whether to be offended or not.
“You’re a conundrum Jess, a mystery.”
Jess took that on the chin and continued his tale.
“See I had this kinda weird feeling that I had to find Christmas before I could wake up.”
“Go on,” said Slim looking interested.
“So I figured I’d start off with all the places I knew it weren’t...like back when I was a kid...that time Pa floored me and I was sick as a dog all Christmas. There was the time I spent Christmas in jail...Another time I spent it in a dang ghost town Slim with guy who’d just lost all his family,” he added warming to his theme now. “Then there was the war...singing away on Christmas Eve with the enemy would ya believe that?” …And he chuckled to himself, “That sure was a strange Christmas.”
Slim opened his mouth to say something, but Jess put up his hand to silence him...
“Let me finish Slim, I hafta tell you this before I lose my nerve, because I just know yer gonna think I’m plum crazy.”
“I won’t,” Slim said softly, “it all makes perfect sense so far. I figure somewhere in the back of your mind you could still hear us, making plans for the big day and smelling Daisy’s Christmas cooking stands to reason you’d have Christmas on your mind.”
Jess sighed but was determined to carry on, “Maybe...anyway there were other times that come to mind, like the last one before I landed here, and my old Ma seemed to be talking to me, telling me to wish on that ol’ star to find my way in life.”
“I remember you telling me about that,” said Slim, “and as I recall I didn’t josh you then, either. I figure that there is more in heaven and earth than we’ll ever know. As to these strange things that seem to happen without any rational explanation, well we just have to accept them, I believe anyway.”
“Like the Holy Family up in our cave?” Jess asked almost belligerently, just waiting for Slim’ s mocking laughter...but it never came.
He just gasped, “For real?”
“Well it sure felt pretty real,” Jess confirmed. “As real as I’m seein’ you now...and it was that little biddy baby that held all the answers Slim.”
“Huh?”
“I was searchin’ for Christmas...every place I knew...and it was there all the time. But I just couldn’t see it. It was in the poverty of my childhood home. In that jail and ghost town, heck and it was even among those troops singing their hearts out on that cold night back in the war.”
“So, what did you find Jess...where is Christmas?”
Jess took another deep breath and decided he didn’t care if he sounded crazy or even soft...it had to be said.
“It was there Slim, in His smile, in His eyes...Its love...and...” He stopped and scratched his head. “What’s that word the Reverend uses on a Sunday...when he talks about how the Lord looks out for folk who suffer how He suffers with them?”
“Compassion Jess...the word’s compassion.”
“That’s it,” Jess said snapping his fingers, “that baby looked at me with such love and compassion Slim and it suddenly all became clear. That’s Christmas...that’s the message he was sending to us....to the World. See no matter what happens, where you are...in poverty, in a jail...suffering because you’ve lost all who you love...even then...if someone shows you love and compassion...well that’s all you need.”
Slim looked thoughtful, taking all this in.
“Of course, I can see that,” he said after a while. “Even in the darkest days it’s there for us, love and compassion, and always...not just at Christmas. It’s provided by family...or friends...or the good Lord Himself... for anyone who cares to look...to ask.”
Jess nodded, his eyes now growing heavy. “I guess this has been the best Christmas ever,” he said quietly, before drifting off to sleep again.
Slim looked at Jess’s old timepiece on the nightstand and noticed it was indeed Christmas morning. Pulling the blanket up more securely round his buddy, he smiled down at him and said softly, “Well it sure will be now,” and he turned to his own bed and blessed sleep.

Epilogue
That Christmas Day was memorable for Jess and Slim. Not just because Jess had to make do with pretty slim pickings, of turkey broth and soft drinks, but mostly because of his revelations, of the night before.
Yes, they had been aware of the Christmas message before, of course they had. But never had it impacted on them so much or colored their Christmas to such an extent. Every gesture of love and kindness noted and made even more special.
Then as Jess once more thought back to the past, just as he was nodding off that night, he saw it....that love...in even the worst of times.
That Christmas when his Pa had lamped him one...dear Kate was full of love and compassion and saw him through it all. Even his Pa was totally guilt ridden and swore off the drink for a few months, until another crisis arose.
He remembered how even in jail he had been treated with kindness by the Sheriff and that old guy Windy, spending hours chatting and playing checkers. Then there was Mrs Morrison, who had taken time out of her day to bring him that tasty Christmas meal.
As to the war...Hell that had been something real special...the way they’d sung that final song...Home Sweet Home....and had been joined by the Unionists, all the troops equally missing their kin and loved ones...
Finally, the love of his dear old Ma coming back to him...to set him straight, just the way she always had done. There was nuthin’ that equaled a mother’s love he figured. He recalled the look of pure love and devotion on the face of the young mother in the cave as she gazed down on her infant son...
Now feeling as happy and relaxed as he had ever done he dosed off into a deep and restorative sleep.
*******
It was now several days after Christmas, the house party ended and the girls and Mort returned to town. Jess decided he wanted to visit the barn to check on Traveller.
“Absolutely not,” said Daisy, who had just entered the bedroom to collect his breakfast tray.
“Tell him Slim. Doc Sam said he must be kept warm and stay in bed or at least on the couch, until his next visit; besides, it’s freezing outdoors!”
“Aw Daisy I just wanna see my old horse,” Jess moaned.
Then he turned to Slim and asked the question his partner had been dreading. “How’s Spirit Slim? Was he hurt much in that fall?”
“Uh, no not really,” Slim said, rising from the bedside and passing the tray to Daisy.
Jess glanced up suspiciously, “Are you sure about that Slim? Heck every time I’ve asked about him you’ve changed the subject. Come on you can tell me. I can take it. Hell, you didn’t hafta shoot him did ya...did he break a leg, huh?” he asked anxiously.
It occurred to Slim that it would be a dang sight easier just to agree and say, ‘Yup, sorry pard we couldn’t save him.’
He took a deep breath and looked into those deep blue, concerned eyes and knew he couldn’t lie.
“Nope, we didn’t have to shoot him Jess.”
“Gee, that’s good,” he said satisfied for the moment...but Slim knew he’d have to admit to the truth sooner or later.
It was just the following day when Jess brought the subject of a trip to the barn up again.
Daisy was busy in the kitchen with the laundry and Jess, now fully dressed, peered out of the parlor window to see a pleasant morning with some sun and no sign of any wind. Or indeed the promised snow, Slim had been predicting since Christmas.
Slim, who had just entered the house after changing the team on the early stage grinned over at his friend.
“How are you feeling now Jess, huh?”
“Swell,” Jess said dismissively, then in a whisper, “How about me goin’ across to the barn...just fer a minute Slim. I’ve gotta see Traveller...and check on Spirit too.”
Slim frowned and sank down on a fireside chair before gesturing for Jess to join him.
“OK,” he said quietly, “I’ll walk you over in a minute, but there’s something you need to know first Jess.”
“Huh?”
“It’s Spirit… I guess I’ve not been entirely truthful about him.”
“I knew it, I just knew it,” Jess said looking upset, “he’s dead ain’t he Slim.”
The blond rancher shook his head, “Nope...the truth is I loosed him off Jess, back into the wild.”
Jess’s head shot up and he looked bewildered and then plain mad.
“What? You what...what the hell did you do a damn fool thing like that for?”
Now it was Slim’ s turn to be angry, “Because I was furious! That dang critter nearly killed you Jess and I just wanted rid of him. You were lying there more dead than alive. Even the Doc seemed to think there was scant hope...So I did what I should have done all along I set him free.”
Jess stood up and turned on his buddy. “Damn it Slim it weren’t the critter’s fault. Ol’ Blue scared up a pheasant right under his nose...Hell, even Trav would have been spooked by that, you can’t blame the horse.”
Slim looked down, “Well I didn’t know that and anyway he was really difficult Jess, hard work I don’t think you’d ever have completely tamed him.”
Jess just shook his head and thrust his hands deep into his pockets before he wandered off to the window and stood looking bleakly out, “You shouldn’t have done it Slim,” was his last word on the subject and the discussion was over.

It was just a week later that something was to happen to finally put an end to their disagreement.
Jess was now on light duties after the doc had visited and deemed him to be amazingly fit, considering all.
“But don’t you go overdoing it,” he had added, “you just take it slow for a week or so more.”
“Heck don’t go telling him that,” Slim had interjected, “or we’ll never get a full day’s work out of him Sam.”
The doc had gone off on his rounds chuckling to himself and Slim and Jess started grooming the replacement team for the afternoon stage and then led them to the corral.
Slim cast a weather eye up to see some more snow clouds rolling in, there being a light sprinkling of snow on the ground already.
“Looks like we’re in for a good old storm,” Slim said nudging Jess and again looking skywards.
Jess grinned, “Well that’ll keep Mike amused making a snowman.”
Then they both heard the sound of a rider approaching.
“Looks like company,” Jess said, “maybe the doc forgot something,” and both men looked expectantly to the rise.
Moments later a rider-less horse charged down the track and stopped to drink its fill from the water trough before wandering over to the corral. He paused with his head over the fence and gave a welcoming nicker to the stage horses.
Slim and Jess stared in amazement before Jess turned to his pard and said in wonder, “Its ol’ Spirit, he’s come home Slim!”
They never knew why the big showy chestnut decided to make his way back to the ranch. Jess reckoned that it was because he’d been gelded and was unable to cut out some mares and reproduce, which was nature’s way. But Slim thought he just missed his home comforts. However, whatever the case he settled down well into ranch life once more and finally became a good reliable mount, just as Jess had promised.

It was spring time before the men had cause to recall those strange ‘out of time’ days on the run up to Christmas. When Jess had been struck down and Slim had feared for his life.
They were sitting out on the porch on the first really warm evening of spring, discussing a fishing trip they were making over to the lake the following day. It would be a Saturday and the men were taking Mike with them and sleeping over in the cave.
“I wonder if we’ll find a crib up there,” Slim said winking at his buddy.
“Hey I thought you promised not to rib me about all that,” Jess said indignantly.
Slim smiled at his friend and said sincerely, “I’m not pard I promise you. To be honest I found everything you told me to be well...really special. It made perfect sense too. Certainly made me look at Christmas and all it stands for with well... renewed wonder… I guess the word is.... Yes...wonder,” he repeated looking off to the distant hills, “that’s the perfect word for it all I reckon.
They were quiet for a while and then he turned back to Jess who was also looking very thoughtful.
“You remember telling me about that time in the war, when you were having that sort of ‘singing battle’ with some Union troops off over the hill?”
Jess nodded.
“So when exactly was it and where?”
Jess told him and Slim’ s face relaxed into a broad smile, “Well I’ll be! Doggone it Jess! That was me and my platoon singing. We’d been called over to repair a bridge that had been blown up!”
“Courtesy of yours truly,” Jess said now grinning too...and shaking his head in amazement. Then he sobered, “It was real special weren’t it...ending up with that ol’ Home Sweet Home...made us feel like even the enemy weren’t so bad at Christmas.”
Slim nodded, “I felt just the same...after all we were just men doing our duty...all in the same boat really, just following orders.”
Jess nodded and then said thoughtfully, “I guess it’s a good job we didn’t meet up back then though...”
“Oh?”
“Well hell yeah, you were the enemy and I‘d have had to shoot ya,” Jess said matter of factly.
They stared at each other in shocked silence before grinning, then they chuckled and finally they laughed until they couldn’t stop, as tears of mirth rolled down their cheeks.
“Well I’m dadgum glad fate stepped in and made sure it was a good few years later that our paths crossed,” Slim finally managed, clutching his belly that was aching from laughing.
“I guess you’re right there Slim,” Jess agreed “You’re so dang right!”
The End
Thank you for reading.
May your Christmas be blessed with Wonder, Love and Compassion

“The best and most beautiful things in the world
Cannot be seen, or touched, but are felt in the heart.”
Helen Keller.