There in Laramie, in the midst of Francies’ troubles that day – Jess had that feeling – that special gut feeling – that nothing would happen until they had a chance to have a nice long talk...and sure enough he was right. They had their talk just before she left yesterday. She took him aside and told him how Gil deserted her. She was so relieved, she told him...it hadn’t been good with Gil. Jess pictured Francie there on the step at his feet, looking up at him as she had yesterday, just like a “kid” sister; he just couldn’t shake that word. He had just finished eating and threw down the biscuit crumbs over the edge of the porch into the dirt.
Dirt. Gils true nature, dirtying things up, had come out under pressure, this was not a good man, and he had learned from his own experience. Jess remembered Gils lies up on the Lolo trail...but Francie was a good woman and Gil was her husband then. What could she do but see it through. “Deserting me was the best thing that happened to me.” He could still hear her words as clear as the cool night air. She had been so afraid he would come back, and it mustn’t ever happen, she knew it well. She confided in a friend of hers, and had her pass the story of her death by her own hand. People would believe a story of lost love, deep sorrows, and the shame that goes with being deserted. Let the towns people talk and spread it around. With her friend to “close the door” on the details, Francie left in the night with the clothes on her back, for Galveston...probably on a night like this one. Panhandle can get cold too at night. Picturing her again he could hear her thoughts as she stepped into the night: Jess, my protector did it, he left on his own, he taught me well, if he could do it so could I...I’m a Harper too...
