Liberty inhaled sharply as she regained her composure. Swallowing her heart she blinked away the tears that were forming in her eyes. It had been twenty-five years since she'd talked so freely about her father. Twenty-five years. She'd been only a girl then. A young, naive 15-year-old girl.
Now she stood at the windowsill staring at the fields of her home. Now she was a grown woman, a ripened age of forty, who has spent the last twenty-five years in silence and despair. She turned to face Greta. The reporter's face was pale and gray. She had removed her spectacles and you could see that she actually had bright green eyes. Eyes that were welling with tears.
"Miss James, your story is a tragic one. I apologize for being so abrupt and dismissive earlier. I really must comment on your ability to handle it."
"Thank you Miss Davidson. I must apologize also, you asked for the story of Jesse James after his days of the railroad. I wasn't able to supply you with it." Liberty smiled weakly sitting down across from the small woman. Greta smiled through her tears.
"Ah, but you have supplied me with a story that is good, quite possibly even better than that of which I came. But I must ask, whatever happened to Colin? Or Josh and that Nancy girl. Did Mr. Miller not worry when you took off?" she questioned eagerly.
Liberty laughed.
"Oh yes, the loose ends. Well, after my father's funeral, Colin only saw it fit to ask my uncles permission to see me and we eventually married. It was shortly after our marriage that I became pregnant with a child."
"And what happened to the child?" Greta asked.
"It was a baby boy. He was a stillborn. Colin and I named him Jesse, after my father. Ten years ago, when I was only thirty, Colin was taken into the town square and hung for outlaw actions against the Indians. You see, with the new treaties drawn up, the law rounded up those who were involved with Indian affairs good or bad." Liberty replied.
"But what about your Uncle Frank and cousin Bob?" Greta asked confusedly. "Weren't they hung as well?"
"No, they are still roaming the wilderness. They've taken on new identities to protect them from the law." Liberty paused as someone rapped on the door. "Excuse me for a moment please Miss Davidson." Liberty added getting up to answer the call.
Greta nodded and sat quietly reviewing her dictated notes. A boisterous cry of happiness flooded the house as Liberty reemerged with a man in tow. This man was tall and wind beaten. He had long curly blonde hair and deep brown eyes.
"Miss Davidson, I'd like you to meet Kyle Franks."
"Pleasure Mr. Franks." Greta replied.
"You'll remember what I told you about new identities and such, well I'd think it only proper for you to meet as well my Uncle, Frank James." Liberty beamed at the man as he kissed the top of her forehead.
"You must be from the paper. Libby was telling me she was ready to talk about it. Sorry I'm late Libby. Billy Bob Robertson decided to hang back at the town pub for a while." Frank winked.
"Billy Bob? Would that be?" Greta wondered out loud.
"Bob Younger?" Liberty filled in. "Yes, I would have to say he is. Is he coming along soon Frank? I should love to see him again."
Frank nodded.
"He should be by in an hours time or so."
Greta smiled as all of a sudden, the bell tower rang clear as a bell seven times.
"That would be my signal Miss James. It was a pleasure to talk to you. I hope we may still correspond by letter."
Liberty nodded.
"That would be nice Miss Davidson. I must agree it was a pleasure to talk to you as well. A great burden that once plagued my soul has been lifted. Although I must ask you to use discretion in what I've told you. The law is still collecting and I do not believe I could stand to lose more of my kin."
Greta smiled and tipped her head.
"I'll see you to the door Miss Davidson." Frank said standing up and following the woman out to the porch. Liberty sighed and leaned back in her chair. She felt her chest tighten and she began to cough. Frank came in shortly after and scrambled to get her a glass of water.
"Another 'bout Liberty? You really should be seen by a doctor. I may be getting old in my years, but I spent enough times at your grandfathers. This could be serious." He scolded her worriedly.
"Ah Frank, I know. I'm fine, just a little tired, that's all." Liberty sighed. "Take me to bed Frank. Please?"
Frank sighed with a small smile.
"Come on little darling. I'll help you upstairs." Frank took one of her arms and slowly led her up the stairs into her room and laid her into her bed. Liberty looked up at her uncle and smiled weakly.
"Good night uncle Frank." She whispered.
"Sleep tight. You always be my little Libby you know that right?" he replied softly pulling the covers up to her chin. Liberty nodded a withered smile and closed her eyes.
Frank smiled and brushed a lock of her hair out of her face. He knew she was dying. She'd been dying for a long time. Once a little while back when Liberty had slept a whole night after her father's funeral, he had a doctor come in and look at her. She had begun to diminish and almost fade for weeks after Jesse died. The doctor had found a lump under her rib cage and determined that it was going to kill her. Frank also knew that when Liberty closed her eyes just then, she' d closed them for good. He looked up at the ceiling, mouthed a little prayer and added out loud before going downstairs.
"You better take care of her up there better than you took care of her down here Jesse James."
* * *
Three weeks went by and four white crosses stood outside under the apple tree. Three looked old and weathered, but a brand new white one gleamed in the sunlight as Frank and Bob harvested the corn of the summer.
A covered wagon came rumbling up the dirt drive and stopped at the steps. A young boy ran up and knocked on the door. When no one answered, he left a brown paper package and ran back to the wagon that trotted off back down the road.
Frank wiped his brow and sat on the porch stairs and held the heavy envelope. Sighing, he slid his thumb under the lip and tore it open. Into his lap fell a newspaper along with a hand written letter.
Dear Liberty,
Hello again! I thought I might send you the first printed copy of your story in the Tennessee Times. How is everything? Are Kyle and Billy Bob still around? I really do hope they're doing all right. Well, I must be off, time waits for no reporter. I shall be waiting for your letter.
Sincerely,
Miss Greta Davidson.
Frank picked up the paper and scanned through the article. In big black letters the article title was clear- "LIBERTY'S LEGACY: The story of Jesse James' Daughter". Frank smiled as Bob came up and sat beside him.
"Whatcha got there Frank?" Bob asked. Frank passed him Greta's letter while still reading the article. It was quite a lengthy piece of writing that took up almost the whole paper.
Once Bob had finished the letter, he chuckled under his breath.
"Well, she did what she needed. She said what she said."
"Too true Bob. It's a shame she couldn't see this herself." Frank sighed looking up at the sky and drifting his gaze to the row of crosses that symbolized Zee, Jesse, Colin and now Liberty.
"But Frank, she did. Up there with Auntie James, her ma and pa, Colin and even Jesse Jr. They all seen it. You forget sometimes that they're not gone forever, just for a little while. We'll see 'em all again." Bob smiled patting Frank on the back.
"What about Cole? Will we seem him too?" Frank asked. Bob shrugged.
"I really couldn't tell you, but it doesn't hurt to hope. Now, I'm going to get back to fields and I should expect you to join me." Bob replied standing up and dusting his hands on his pants before going back into the green fields of corn. Frank smiled.
"I'll be there soon enough."
* * *
Three towns away, Greta Davidson received a letter attached to a box wrapped in brown paper. from a Mr. Kyle Franks and Billy Bob Robertson and hurriedly opened it and sat down to read it.
"I wonder why they would be writing me?" Greta wondered out loud.
Dear Miss Davidson,
I regret to inform you that to the despair of Mr. Robertson and I, that Miss Liberty Zerelda James has passed into heaven. We know you took great interest into the life of our beloved cousin and niece and hope that you find these of sentimental value. We would also like to continue contact with you as it would be what Libby would have wanted.
Sincerely,
Mr. Kyle Franks
And
Mr. Billy Bob Robertson
Greta felt a tear grow at the corner of her eye as she opened the box and found a pair of silver pistols sitting in a freshly polished shoulder holster.