Chapter Ten

Three Weeks Later…

Jess' proclamation didn't come as soon as he would have liked. He had remained in bed for ten full days, and only then he'd escaped his blanketed confines in secrecy, for Daisy had insisted the length be closer to a two week time frame. Jess could still hear Daisy's alarmed cry when she found him standing in the bedroom doorway, but no amount of her pleading, or the added pain that being upright produced, could take him back to bed. The restored feeling in his leg meant that he could stand and walk, if the shuffled limp that brought him out of bed could have been called a walk, however the pain was no longer isolated to his upper leg, but from his hip on down to his littlest toe. But no matter how much the leg ached, there was a better feeling radiating throughout his entire body for no longer being stuck on his back.

Jess' stubborn determination delivered a perfectly carved crutch from Slim's hand, and although it could aid him in traveling from room to room, and go all the way to the barn when no one was looking, there were still areas where he needed assistance. One of his biggest challenges was just putting his legs inside of his pants to pull them up. At first the flesh above his knee all the way up to his hip had been so swollen that he couldn't fit into his preferred snug fitting jeans. Daisy had to immediately go to work with needle and thread as Jess refused to only wear oversized long johns. He'd felt it a small victory when his regular jeans finally slid past his rump without too much of a tight squeeze.

Each day that Jess progressed ticked off another victory. Some seemed insignificant and small, like today's being the first time he'd stamped both feet down into his boots without any help. But today also had another first to be marked down, this one categorized as more momentous, for Jess was home alone. Right after breakfast, Slim took Daisy and Mike over to see a neighbor's new baby, which gave him the freedom to move about the house and the surrounding area outdoors without being scrutinized by at least one set of watchful eyes.

Jess had spent the first hour of his alone time outside, surveying everything from the front porch, to the shower stalls, the barn, corral and back again. There was a simple contentment in being able to move about on his own, yet in some way, Jess was still being watched over. Before Daisy had left, she'd fretted so much that she had put whatever she thought he might have needed within close reach, including a plate full of food and a fresh pot of coffee on the stove. Returning to the house, Jess filled a cup and then sat at the table, slowly sipping the hot liquid down his throat.

Stretching his leg out, Jess sighed gently as he put a hand on the surgery site. The crutch, the morning stiffness, the ongoing ache, and his limited mobility all were evidence of what he'd endured. But perhaps what showed it the most was his scars. The bandages had finally been removed a week earlier, revealing an ugly set of marks that Doctor Sweeney said might not ever fade away. Carrying them didn't really bother Jess, for they weren't the first permanent scars that were ever etched into his frame, and having them was a stark reminder of what he'd almost lost. He still had his leg. It moved, it functioned, it did almost everything that he told it to do, or what Slim and Daisy allowed him to do, and he knew with more time it would only grow stronger.

Jess set the cup of coffee back down to the table as his head turned toward the door, listening to the sound of a stagecoach rolling in. He glanced at the clock and shrugged, as there wasn't an eastbound coach scheduled to arrive until the afternoon. Slim wasn't due back for another hour or so, and that all depended on Daisy's touch upon Baby Pruitt. He picked up his crutch and made his way outside, growing a smile when Mose led the team to a stop.

"Howdy Mose," Jess leaned on his crutch as Mose stepped down from the coach. "You're early."

"Either that or I'm a day late," Mose rubbed his handkerchief over his face. "Just when you get used to it being cool and wet, it turns hotter and dryer than a burnt biscuit. Where's Slim?"

"He took Daisy on over to see Mrs. Pruitt's new baby."

"The one with the single lock of red hair sticking straight up?" Mose accentuated his question with a point to the top of his head.

"That's the one."

"Darn cute little thing, but from what I hear, she never stops wailing."

"That's why Daisy's headed over there," Jess nodded as he rested a hand on the lead horse's back. "Says she knows exactly what to do."

"I don't doubt that," Mose said with wink. "Good woman, that Daisy is, and not only that, but she puts up with all your caterwauling that a baby ain't gonna be too difficult to handle."

"Very funny, Mose," Jess responded dryly, although a smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

"Well, since Burch insists that I don't need a shotgun man when all I'm carrying is mail and no passengers," Mose said while looking over his shoulder at the team that needed switching out, "and Slim's off cooing at babies, then I reckon I better get to the team switching myself."

"I'll help, Mose," Jess answered quickly, leaning into his crutch as he started hobbling toward the corral.

"Can you?"

"Of course," Jess said, fully aware that it came out as a bark, but Mose knew that it wasn't backed with much bite.

Surprisingly, if someone had been timing the switching of teams, comparing Jess and Mose's current work with one under completely normal conditions, there wouldn't have been much of a difference. Jess moved steadily with the aid of his crutch, keeping a continual conversation with Mose going as one team was led to the corral while the other was being hitched.

"I see there's another stage to fix," Mose nodded toward the immobile coach by the barn when all he had left to do was get back up in the driver's seat and take the reins in his hand. "What's the matter with it?"

"I dunno," Jess shrugged as he closed the corral gate. "Must've been brought in this morning, but Slim didn't tell me anything about it."

"More'n likely it's just Burch giving hisself a headache over a little scratch," Mose climbed to the top of the coach to his familiar seat. "And he'll give me one too if he finds out I'm dawdling, even if I am early today. I'll be seeing you, Jess. Take care of yourself."

Jess barely lifted his arm in a wave as Mose headed the team back onto the main road toward Laramie, his gaze solely attached to the broken stagecoach across the yard. If he was going to take a proper look at it, he couldn't do so with a long stick under his arm. Jess let the crutch fall to the ground, glad for an excuse as he had been eager to lose the thing anyway, even though Doctor Sweeney had instructed to use its aid for a month or more. Jess took his first step without assistance, the full weight on his foot sending a stab of pain all the way up to his hip, but through gritted teeth, he took another, and another, until he was completely in front of the stagecoach. With two hands on his hips, he looked it over, not noticing anything within his line of vision wrong. The wheels were sound, the brakes looked good, the tongue was in perfect shape, and all of the other parts from his level appeared normal. Whatever that needed mending must have been underneath.

Jess had been bucked off many wild horses, and even some mounts just on the friskier side of gentle, and he'd never balked at getting back on and trying again. Sure, there was pain in landing a backside smack hard into the ground, but it was never enough to stop him from getting back in the saddle. This job would be no different. The stage had come close to maiming him for the rest of his life, but it hadn't defeated him. The accident had hurt him, but moving around wasn't impossible anymore. Jess didn't have any reason to walk away from what was before him. A few minutes later, Jess was on his back, looking up to the undersides of the stagecoach.

"That ain't too bad," Jess said aloud, pulling a loose bolt from the axle. "Kinda bent, but not impossible."

He pulled himself out from underneath the coach, turning over the bolt in his hands, studying how it needed to be reshaped to fit properly. In a few minutes, the forge was glowing hot and with some stout hammering, the bolt was as it should have been again. Going back to the coach, Jess barely looked up to the top of the hill, seeing Slim guiding the buckboard toward the house without Daisy by his side. He figured that her absence meant Daisy wished to stay longer with the Pruitt baby, and Slim came home ahead of her to work. Jess gave a slight shrug, knowing that he could wait a short while longer and Slim could do the job on the coach himself, but there was a strange need inside of Jess' body that needed to be satisfied. Bouncing the reshaped bolt in his hand, Jess went back on the ground, and soon the stagecoach could have been considered as good as new.

Just after rounding the corner of the house, Slim pulled the team of horses to a halt, the smile that he'd been wearing moments before suddenly gone when he saw Jess' crutch lying in the middle of the yard, but Jess nowhere in sight. He jumped to the ground and picked up the crutch, a multitude of worrisome thoughts instantly crowding close inside of his mind. Slim fully suspected that his partner had been doing something he shouldn't have been somewhere outside or in the barn. But the reason the crutch was discarded seemed unnaturally alarming. Had something else equally as terrifying happened to Jess while he was away?

"Jess!" Slim shouted, the note of panic clearly evident by the catch in his throat as he started running for the barn.

"What's the matter?" Jess' voice called as he scooted himself out from underneath the stagecoach.

"Jess," Slim came to an abrupt stop and then once he found movement again, slowly walked in Jess' direction. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Fixing the stagecoach," Jess answered, using the coach's rear wheel to help pull him to his feet. "And I got it done, too. Nothing to it."

"Didn't you learn anything at all from nearly losing your leg?" Slim couldn't help but have his voice rise with agitation. Seeing Jess lying underneath the coach brought back the reminder of how close he actually was at not only just having a maimed partner, but not having a partner alive at all.

"I reckon I didn't," Jess shook his head, starting to walk toward the barn, "but it probably ain't gonna be the last time either."

"We both know you can be rather reckless," Slim kept the frown tight on his face. "You shouldn't always be out here taking risks."

"Aw, come on, Slim, I ain't that bad."

"Wanna bet?"

"Dad-gummed, Slim," Jess said with a low growl, "you got me so riled up that I forgot to limp."

"You forgot to what?" Slim asked, any anger that had been aroused quickly turned to joy as he watched Jess stomp to the barn as he returned the tools he'd used to their proper places.

"Huh?" Jess barely muttered as he stopped in his tracks, looking down at his normal posture. He then took a step, followed by eight or ten more, and yes, there was still pain, but it didn't hinder his stride. "Slim! Did you see that?"

"You bet I did," Slim hurried to Jess' position and wrapped an arm around his shoulder. "And boy, Pard, I'm sure going to remember what you said."

"About what?"

"Oh, just something about outworking me from sunup to sundown."

"Well," Jess stepped forward, taking a wide look around at the ranch, knowing that there were several places where he could begin. "Let's get to it then!"

"All right," Slim nodded, a smile growing on his face that reached up to twinkle in his eyes. He reached both hands out and gave Jess a friendly shove. "Lead the way!"

"Hey," Jess turned sharply, trying not to laugh as he pointed at Slim, "watch it, Mr. Sherman, or you just might lose a partner."

"No, Jess," Slim's voice became a touch more serious, but the smile stayed genuine, "I'll never lose a partner like you."

Jess reached out a hand and gently clapped Slim on the back, and as he did so, Slim's eyelids drew closed. In that brief moment, he saw Jess sitting in a wheelchair, and then he saw Jess walking a fence line, loaded up with a myriad of tools so that the stock wouldn't wander. He saw Jess lying still in bed, and then he saw Jess running to be the first to jump into the lake on the hottest summer day. He saw Jess leaning against a crutch, and then he saw Jess standing whole, the strength that emanated from his body in his normal tough-guy stance as he was ready to take on the world. When Slim opened his eyes, the series of mind-created scenes ended, but there was no longer a dark image to return to. His partner really was whole, and they could take on the world together.

…

Author's notes: I researched for a full diagram of a stagecoach to learn the various parts of its undercarriage. I found only two with descriptions enough to help me, so using what I'd learned, my imagination, and from the episode "The Confederate Express" and how Slim and Jess were fixing the stagecoach, I created Jess' accident. If there are any errors in my description and titles of stage parts, they all belong to me.

Also, Jess' injury and his treatment came from reading at length on Civil War amputations. If my imagination was inaccurate, these errors, too, are mine.