All Roads Lead Home

“Jonesy, you lay on any more supplies an’ I’m gonna have to take along a packhorse,” Jess chided the older man. His intention had been to be on the trail by daybreak but here it was - nearing seven and he was still tucking in one last item after another as Slim, Andy, and Jonesy seemed to conspire to keep him there as long as they could.

 

“You got a long ride ahead of ya boy, and I ain’t going to have you go losin’ all that weight I’ve worked hard to get on ya,” Jonesy retorted. “I don’t want to be getting’ ya back in any worse shape than you were in when ya left.”

 

Slim stood back and watched the proceedings with a distant look in his eyes. Andy busied himself cleaning an already cleaned harness. Neither could think of the right thing to say.

 

All too soon, the gear was packed and Jess had nothing more to do than swing into the saddle and head out. He shook hands solemnly with Jonesy and then looked to the other two.

 

Slim and Andy came forward shyly. There was a long awkward silence before, as one, the three came together and unabashedly embraced. Then, there being nothing more to say or do, Jess mounted, waved and jogged away afraid to look back.

 

He headed first to Fort Laramie and then north onto the Bozeman trail. The going was easy and the grazing plentiful. If the faithful Traveler missed his comfortable stall, he never let on. As the miles passed beneath his iron-shod hooves, he pointed his long black tipped ears forward and shared his rider’s joy in having the wind at their backs and a long clear trail ahead.

 

They traveled on at a steady pace, often covering more than fifty miles in a day though sometimes less if it suited them. They crossed the Big Horn River at Fort Smith and then north to the Yellowstone River before stopping in Billings eight days after leaving Laramie.

 

Jess lingered there just long enough to replenish his supplies and check in at the telegraph office to see if there were any messages from home. There being none, he briefly considered wiring back to let Slim know he was alright but decided that would be such an uncharacteristic thing for him to do that Slim would worry all the more. Instead, he went right about repacking Traveler and then headed out of town and west to Bozeman.

 

It was in Bozeman that Jess decided it was time for a good rest and cleaning up before heading out on the last leg of his journey to Ruby Creek and the Davis Ranch.

 

After making sure Traveler was comfortably settled in the local livery stable and treating himself to a long hot bath and a good meal, he moseyed over to the likeliest-appearing of the main street saloons.

 

The bartender eyed him carefully and taking his measure, plunked down a shot glass in front of him and filled it with whiskey. Jess laid some coins on the bar and downed the shot in one swallow. The bartender refilled it and taking it in his hand, Jess turned his back to the bar and surveyed the large room.

 

It looked just like any of a hundred other bars in a hundred other towns. The green baize gaming tables. The roulette wheels – the high-backed piano - the girls in garish makeup swinging their broad hips as they cajoled the patrons into buying just one more drink.

 

There was a time when this would have seemed like home to him. Now it was only faintly amusing. He found himself wondering what Slim and Andy were up to. He pictured them, finished now with their supper, perhaps lingering over a piece of Jonesy’s pie with a hunk of cheese on the side. Andy would be talking non-stop about his plans and his dreams. Slim would be smiling and gently reminding him that a calving cow waited for no man no matter how lofty his ideas. Jess wondered if they thought of him and wondered what he was doing. He decided probably not.

 

“Don’t think I’ve seen you around here before,” the bartender interjected over his shoulder.

 

“Don’t think I’ve been here before,” Jess replied without turning around.

 

“Got business here?”

 

“Nah, just passin’ through.” Then, on impulse, he turned and faced the bartender. “Say -you wouldn’t by any chance a heard of a fella by the name of Farley – Dreb Farley?”

 

The bartender’s eyes turned cold, any friendliness vanishing in an instant. He glanced nervously about the room and then leaned forward and said in a hoarse whisper, “Never heard the name in my life and if I were you I’d forget I ever knew it.” With that, he turned and busied himself washing glasses.

 

Jess stared at him perplexed. The bartender studiously ignored him. He slowly finished his drink, left a few more coins on the bar and headed out the door and towards the livery stable to check on Traveler before turning in.

 

************************************************

 

The stable was dark and the only sounds were the steady munching, snorting and stomping of the unseen horses. As he felt for the lantern he knew would be hanging by the door, strong hands grasped him from behind painfully pulling one arm up behind his back.

 

Jess gritted his teeth against the pain and felt behind him with his foot, trying to find a target to stomp on. This only resulted in his arm being wrenched higher. He could feel muscles and tendons stretching to their breaking point. Just when he thought he couldn’t stand it anymore, a deep coarse voice whispered in his ear and he nearly gagged on its owner’s fetid breath. “You be gone by daybreak, cowpoke. You got that?” the disembodied voice demanded.

 

Jess nodded and felt the pressure on his arm let up slightly.

 

“An don’ you go sayin’ the name of Dreb Farley again lessn’ you want to be carryin’ this arm of yours home in your saddle bag.”

 

With that, the faceless stranger gave his arm one more painful twist before pushing him forward hard onto his knees and clubbing him viciously on the back of the head.

 

The sky was just beginning to lighten when he regained consciousness. Through bleary eyes he was able to make out the figure of the stable boy holding Traveler who was saddled, packed and ready to go. ‘This thug thought of everything,’ he mused.

 

The boy said nothing but just passed him the reins and turned away.

 

Jess led Traveler out into the street, pausing only briefly at the water trough to soak his bandanna and hold it to the painful knot on the back of his head.

 

Then, mounting he rode slowly out of town – this fight or whatever it was - was far from over but it was a fight that could wait until another day.

 

He had intended to push hard and get to within striking distance of Ruby Creek by nightfall but his pounding head and aching arm slowed him down considerably and he finally gave up and made camp after covering only half the miles he had wanted to.

 

He awoke the next morning feeling considerably better and headed southwest after eating a good breakfast. His mood improved even more as magnificent forests gave way to a huge open valley. Lush meadows ablaze with wild flowers rolled down to the banks of wide clear rivers teeming with fish. ‘How Slim and Andy would love this!’ Jess thought to himself.

 

All too quickly the natural beauty gave way to civilization. He began to pass small homesteads. The trail became a road deeply rutted with wagon tracks. Various items of cast-off refuse began to litter the roadside. The road became muddier and the traffic increased. Then the road widened and became the main street of Ruby Creek.

 

The din of people and wagons assaulted his senses. From out of the saloons and dance halls poured drunken miners and loud bawdy music. Ruby Creek was as wild and wooly a mining town as there was and here he was, sitting on Traveler right smack in the middle of it. He took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and headed for the local sheriff’s office. He’d learned his lesson in Bozeman and with a letter of introduction from Sheriff Cory in his pocket; he figured the local law was his safest bet. A bet he would have lost.

 

*********************************

Back to Fanfic

Back to All Roads Lead Home

Chapter Four