Journey Into Uncertainty

Part 3

The music drifted away into the darkness, but the laughter rang on.  A large crowd had slowly dwindled to a few diehards, but those still partaking in the town’s annual festival were determined to enjoy every last minute.

Rick drew the young woman towards him, as they circled one last time.  Even though the musicians had stopped playing, the memory of the tune seemed to flow around the couple.  It wasn’t that she was anyone special.  He’d met several young ladies during the weekly trips to town, but Maryanne was by far, the best dancer.

“I think that was the last one.”  

“Yeah, and it’s probably for the best, too.”  She groaned.  “My feet are killing me!” 

His answering laugh rang out, while Maryanne’s softer giggle blended in.  From the sidelines, they could see Bess watching them, a faint smile playing across her own aging cheeks.

“Well, my feet don’t hurt, but it is late.  Guess it’s time to be heading back to the ranch, or Bess won’t get any work out of me tomorrow.”

The couple walked, arm in arm, towards the edge of the makeshift dance floor.

“Oh, it doesn’t look like she’s too worried about it.”

“No, you’re right.  She looks pretty happy tonight.  I think she had a good time this weekend.”

“Bess always has a good time at these get-togethers.  She likes to act all tough and independent, but she’s really very social.”

“You’ve got her pegged, don’t you?”  Rick noted playfully.

“Well, I like to know the people I spend time with.”

“You do, huh?   And what do say about me, pretty lady?”

“Oh, you’re easy.  Hard working, tough, macho-type.  Soft as a kitten inside, and wouldn’t hurt a fly.  You’re just what Bess needed.”

“So, you think you have me all figured out, do you?”

“Yes, I do.”  Maryanne answered smugly, but with a twinkle in her eye.

“Okay, then.  If you know so much, who am I going to ask to the movie next Saturday night?”

“Oh, that’s easy.  Susan Finley.”

Rick would’ve laughed, if Bess hadn’t beaten him to it.  Her eyes flashed with amusement, as she joined the young couple.

“Good for you, Maryanne.”

“What?  Now you’re both ganging up on me?”  Rick sputtered good-naturedly.  “Okay, then, if that’s the way you women are going to act . . . picking on a poor working man with no means to defend himself, then I’ll just go hang out with my own kind.”

With a jaunty twist of his head, Rick walked off toward the corner coffee shop.  Several tables had been set out on the sidewalk for the festival, and a group of men sat together, sharing the last minutes of a pleasant day.  Though the sun had long since dropped below the skyline, the few streetlights continued to light the area, a perfect setting for a town gathering. 

“How about one more beer?”  Luke asked, as Rick joined the others.

“Nah, I think Bess is about ready to go.  I’ll take a rain check, though, ‘til Saturday.”

“Sure, Rick, no problem.  I think you still owe me a round of pool anyway.”

“Wait a minute there, farm boy, you owe me a round, remember?”

“I don’t think so . . . the bet was best two out of three, and winner paid the next round.”

“And beer, and I won.”

“Now Rick-”

“Oh, come on you two.  You’re not going to start this again, are you?   Last time we went through this, it took an hour to get it settled.”

Several voices joined Harold’s in laughing at the two men.  Rick had found a good friend in Luke Templeton, and vice versa.  Though they hadn’t known each other long, and didn’t see each other often, the friendship had quickly grown into something solid. 

“All right, we’ll save it.  But come next Saturday, there’s going to be some paying up.”

Rick elbowed his new friend teasingly, while Luke ducked and feinted in mock fighting style.

“You know, boy, it’s a good thing Rocky hasn’t come home yet.  He’d be showing you a thing or two about paying up.”

Another round of laughter answered Luke’s taunt, but Rick was unaffected.

“Yeah, right after I send him over to your place.” 

One by one, the men said goodnight, until only Harold and Rick stood talking to Luke. 

“Hey, I’d better be heading for home.  Bess looks a little tired.”

“Don’t let that old gal fool ya, Rick.  She’ll outwork and probably outlive the whole lot of us.”   Harold answered.

“See ya Saturday, Luke.”  The young man laughed.

“Night, Rick.”

“Harold.”

“Night, boy.”

As he walked across the street, Rick felt warm in a way that had nothing to do with dancing.  It was a great feeling, having friends you cared about, and who cared about you. 

“Did you have a good time, Bess?”

“I had a wonderful time.”  She answered happily, while tucking her arm into his. 

“How about you?  Was there enough fun in this old town to keep you happy?”

“Plenty.  Between the horse race, the good food, and dancing, I think it was one of the best times I ever had.”

Neither one acknowledged that he didn’t have a lot of things to compare this too, but it didn’t seem to matter.  Strolling slowly down the street, the pair seemed content to simply enjoy what they had.

“So, I hear you’re coming to town next weekend.”  Bess announced suddenly.

“Well . . .yeah.  Thought I would, if you don’t mind.”  He answered hesitantly.

“Then make sure that Luke Templeton pays up.  He likes to pull a fast one, now and again.”

Rick laughed out loud, and Bess smiled in delight.  Anyone watching would’ve been hard-pressed to decide which one looked the happiest.

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

Joanne dropped the last laundry basket on the floor, and reached for the door of the dryer.  It was just one of a woman’s everyday chores, but today, it seemed like an unnecessary burden.  Part of her wanted to scream at the washer and dryer for going too slow, while another part of her ranted against the children who insisted on dirtying up so many clothes.

Pulling out the last pair of jeans and depositing them in the basket, Joanne slammed the door and wearily picked up the clean load.  Walking back into the living room, she dumped the still-warm clothes on the couch, and sat down to fold them.  It was then, as she caught sight of Roy & Johnny’s picture on the mantle, that she finally admitted to herself what had been plaguing her all week.   It wasn’t the household chores, or the kids’ extra homework.  It wasn’t even the fact that Roy had flown to Oregon.  The fact of the matter was, this journey was a difficult one for her husband, and he was making it alone. 

Even though Roy was following up on that salesman’s tip, he didn’t hold out much hope.  Months had passed since Johnny’s disappearance, and the police had long ago exhausted every lead.  The fact that Roy was planning to drive Johnny’s Rover home was just another link in the long chain of events.  Roy had really gone to Oregon to say goodbye, whether he was willing to admit it to himself or not.  And Joanne knew that when he returned, her husband was going to need all the love and support she could offer. 

It hadn’t been easy for any of them, these past months.  Had it been an accident at work, or even an illness that took Johnny from them, like that virus that he’d had several years before, they would’ve been devastated, but they would’ve accepted it and went on with their lives.   But this . . .this was different.  There was no tangible.  No body to bury, no headstone to erect.  Instead, there was only guesswork, and innuendo, and blind paths to follow.

Yet in the end, they were still left with one simple fact.  Johnny was gone.  The how and why didn’t matter.  He was gone from them, and they had to accept the fact that he was never coming back.  No matter how much they missed him, and wished it wasn’t true, Johnny would never walk through that door.  He’d never join them at the dinner table, pull Jennifer’s ponytail, or tease Chris about the little girl down the street.  He’d never raise his eyes over something Roy said, or flash that wonderful grin at Joanne when she offered to fix him one of his favorite meals.  No.  He was gone.  Gone for good.

Tears streaming down her cheeks, Joanne dropped her head in her hands, and let herself really cry for the first time in months.   She’d held it in, for Roy’s sake.  But now, she could truly let herself grieve.

The ringing of the phone broke into her thoughts, and she grabbed blindly for the box of tissues that sat on the end table.  Wiping at her blurry eyes, she hurried to the kitchen and managed to grab the receiver on the sixth ring.

“Hello.”

“Hello.  May I speak to Roy DeSoto, please?”

“I’m sorry, he’s not here right now.  May I take a message?”

“Oh . . .ummm . . .well-”

“This is Mrs. DeSoto, is there something I could help you with?”

“Well, yeah, I guess so.   I don’t know when I’ll have a chance to call again, so maybe I should just leave the information with you.”

“Okay.  Just a moment, let me get a pen . . .  All right, what is the message?”

“My name is Benson, Wes Benson.  I buy and sell horses, all the way from the California border up to my home in Idaho.  So, you can probably guess that I get around to a lot of different places.  Anyway, I got your husband’s name and phone number off one of those flyers.  Saw it while I was eatin’ dinner . . . it was about a lost person . . . a John Gage.  Maybe I’m wrong, but I thought I should take the chance.  You see, well, I wanted to let someone know . . . I think I’ve seen this Mr. Gage.” 

Joanne’s hand began to tremble, and her knees felt weak.  

“You . . . you’ve seen him?  He’s alive?”

“Well, ma’am, I think so.  It sure looked like him, anyway.  Course, the guy wasn’t going by the same name, but I could swear that it was him.”

“When did you see him?  And where . . .”

“Ohh, it’s been awhile, now.  Over a month; might be close to two.  I just happened to see this notice at a truck stop last night, and I realized the guy looked real familiar, but I couldn’t place him.  Then, this morning at breakfast, I finally figured out where I’d seen him.”

Joanne slowly sank to the kitchen floor, still clutching the receiver in one hand, a notepad in the other.  Leaning back against the cabinets, she cradled the phone between her ear and shoulder, while she held the pad steady and began to write.

“Where was it that you saw this man?”

“Ohhh, sorry.  Well, I saw him up at Bess Hilton’s place.  He’s workin’ with her horses.  Been there for awhile, from what I could tell.  Real friendly, and a good hand.  Funny thing, though, Bess didn’t call him John.  Don’t quite remember what his name was, but I’m sure it wasn’t John.   Maybe it was Ron or Randy . . .something like that.  But it was him.  I recognized his-”

It took more than a little control on Joanne’s part, not to scream at this man in frustration.  Here he was, not only telling her that Johnny might still be alive, but also that he knew where their friend was . . .yet he couldn’t seem to get the information out.   She knew she probably sounded rude, but at this point, she couldn’t help herself.

“Sir . . .could you please give me the phone number and address of the place?  I’ll be glad to pass the information on to my husband as soon as possible.”

“Ohh, yeah . . .okay.  Well, wait, I can tell you how to get there, but I can’t give you a phone number.   Don’t know if I even have one, and if I do it’s at home.  I’m out on the road right now, making a quick trip, and I don’t have my regular notebook with me.  But hey, I bet you could call information.”

“Whatever you can tell me would be fine.  We really appreciate that you’ve called with the information.”

Joanne wrote frantically, as the man finally gave her vague directions on how to find the Widow Hilton.   He seemed to know his way around the back roads of Oregon, but he sure didn’t know how to describe them.  It was almost five minutes later that she finally managed to blurt out her thanks, and hang up the phone.

It took almost another ten minutes before Joanne could get herself under control enough to make her call.  She was filled with elation at the possibility that Johnny was alive, yet scared to death that this may be nothing more than another wild goose chase, one that would only hurt her husband more.  Still, if there was any chance that this was really John.

Roy had phoned in just the night before, so she knew that it might be another full day before she heard from him again.   But even though she had no way of contacting Roy, there was someone she had to call immediately.

Reaching for the phone, she dialed the number by memory, relieved when her call was answered on the second ring.

“Station 51, Captain Stanley speaking.”

“Hank, it’s Joanne.  I have some news . . .”

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

Rick seemed amazed at how quickly the weather seemed to change.  Where only a week before, the evenings had been comfortable and warm, now they were cool, with a hint of frost in the air.   He looked comfortable in his new flannel shirt in the mornings, yet by mid-day, he had stripped down to his white t-shirt, the beams from the southern-tipped sun warming him as he worked.

There were a lot of chores to keep a man busy, especially in the fall of the year.  On a ranch, there were many tasks that still fell into the natural order of things.  Making sure the hay was put up, enough to last through whatever the winter might bring.  There was fencing to repair, before the winter winds and rain set in, and a million other little jobs that needed doing on a place this size.  Rick didn’t shirk any of his duties, but seemed to buckle down and work that much harder. 

From her place in the garden, Bess watched him as he worked, even as she busied herself with the final clearing of the summer vegetables.  There were rows and rows of her canned goods on the pantry shelves, and for the first time in several years, she was looking forward to using them up during the winter.  The thought of having someone to share the long cold evenings with was pure joy.  

Sure, Rocky was always around, but he was more into carousing with the guys at the pool hall, not visiting with her.  Other than the meals they shared, he tended to keep to himself in the bunkhouse.  This winter would definitely be different.

Not only had she enjoyed her time with Rick these past months, but with Harold as well.  He’d started coming by more often, and the three of them had developed an evening routine they all looked forward to.   Some evenings they played card games, even though Rick wasn’t overly good at them.  Occasionally they sang, while Bess played her small organ.  But many evenings were simply spent in friendly conversation.  From time to time, Rick would pick up the old guitar he’d found in the attic, and strum it quietly.  The tunes he played were nothing that Bess recognized, but she enjoyed listening to him.

There were times, rare though they were, that his expression would darken, and a look of sadness would come over him.  It was disheartening to Bess, yet she hid her own concerns behind an expression of love and understanding.  In the beginning, those sad times were fairly frequent, and would be followed by nights filled with dreams.  Nights that she would hear him call out, even from her bedroom far away from the bunkhouse. 

There’d even been a few times when she’d slipped from her own bed to hurry down the walk in her bathrobe, to hover outside the bunkhouse, unsure if she should knock on the door, or leave him to awaken on his own.  That was when Bess had heard him mutter names she did not recognize, and situations she couldn’t even imagine.   It was almost as if he’d lived some terrible life before he came to her, a life filled with risk and danger.  But as the months passed, the sadness did too.   Now, he seemed content, and yes, even happy.   It had been some time since she’d heard him call out in the night, and even longer since he’d questioned his past.

“Bess?”

His voice startled her from her musings.

“What?  Oh, yes, Rick.  What is it?”

“I’m going out to check the south fence line.  Want to come along?   We’ll be back by supper.”

“No, I can’t today.  There’s just too many things left to do in this garden.  You go ahead, but don’t be too late.   I’ll be fixing up something special.”

“You always do.”

“Oh, go on with you.”

“See you in a couple hours, then.”

Bess waved once, as he climbed into the jeep and pulled out of the yard.  He almost beamed at her, as he shifted gears to climb the narrow road towards the ridge.  She threw up a silent prayer for his safety as he drove away, and suddenly realized that little practice had become a habit.

Humming an old tune, Bess turned back to her work.

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

The place was nothing more than a wide spot in the road, but there was a small filling station, with an equally small store.  It had only taken a few minutes for Roy to tour the inside of the old-fashioned store, purchasing a few snacks and a cold soda.  Gas was expensive out here, but since there wasn’t a larger place within a hundred miles, Roy pulled out his wallet and handed over his gas card.  It was while he was waiting for the attendant to fill the tank that he finally let himself give in.

It had been over a week since he’d picked up the Rover, a very long, very unproductive week.  If Johnny had been walking alongside the road after his accident, then Bob Jenkins must’ve been the only one in the country who’d seen him there.  There was no leads, no evidence.  Nothing.  Just like Detective Saunders had told him.  Roy knew that he’d been warned, and he knew instinctively that Saunders had been telling him the truth.  But just as instinctively, he knew that Johnny had made it out of the wreck.  And even now, he sensed that his friend was alive somewhere.

Unfortunately, that sixth sense, as Joanne would label it, wasn’t helping Roy.  Time was running out.  He still had to make the drive home to LA, and he couldn’t miss many more shifts.  There was simply no vacation time left.  Fact was, vacation had been used up long ago.  Even with donated hours by various coworkers, his family couldn’t afford to see him missing any more work.  And those were just the responsible, practical parts of the issue.  More importantly, there were the sentimental parts . . the fatherly impulse that urged him to go home.  The loving man who needed his wife and kids.  Needed to hold them, share with them . . . move on.  

Roy DeSoto knew he owed his partner a lot, and he didn’t want to give up.  But the time had also come for a good dose of honesty.   There was very little hope that one man, driving the back roads of Oregon, would find that missing needle-in-the-haystack known as John Gage.

Blinking against the sunlight, and the brutal knowledge that he was making a final choice, Roy turned to the older gentleman.

“Here’s your card, son.  Anything else I can do for you?” 

“No.  Thanks.”

The older man nodded, then pulled out a faded red bandana from his back pocket, and slowly wiped the back of his neck.

“Sure is a warm one, for autumn.  You headin’ someplace special, or just travelin’ through?”

Staring at the man for a moment, Roy finally found his voice, and his decision.

“I’m heading home.”

“Oh well, that’s good.  You drive careful now.”

“Thanks, I will.”

A phone booth beckoned from across the gravel-strewn lot.  It only took a few steps to reach it, and several seconds to dial the number.  Roy drummed his fingertips on top of the payphone, waiting impatiently as he counted the rings.  By the time he reached nine, he’d come to the conclusion that Joanne was either outside or running errands, and started to hang up.  It was only the high-pitched ‘hello’ echoing across the line that caused him to stop, and put the receiver back to his ear.

“Joanne?”

“Roy!  Oh, thank God.  I was hoping it was you, and that I hadn’t missed your call.”

She sounded breathless, as if she’d just run a five-mile marathon.

“That’s okay, honey, I’d have called back.”

“Oh, no.  That would’ve been worse.  Oh, Roy, I just stepped out for a few minutes.  I never dreamt that you’d call so early.  But I hurried, and . . . oh, never mind.  I don’t know why I’m rambling.”

Roy frowned slightly, as he tried to decide what had gotten into his wife.

“Joanne, is everything okay?”

“Oh, yes.  Everything is fine.  Better than fine.  Roy . . . I have the best news.”

The excitement in her voice, now, was unmistakable.  Roy felt a surge of adrenalin, as he fought against a sudden wild hope.  It couldn’t be . . .

“Roy.  I got a call yesterday, from a horse trader in Idaho.”

“Idaho?  What did he-”

“Roy.  He thinks he saw Johnny!”

Unaware that his wife had the same reaction only the day before, Roy fought the desire to sink to the ground with the receiver in his hand.

“Did you hear me, Roy?”

”Yeah. Yeah, but . . . Idaho?  He saw Johnny in Idaho?”

”No.  He’s from Idaho, but that’s not where he saw Johnny.  I don’t know much, honey, but he said that he’d been at a lady’s ranch in Oregon, and there was a man there that looked like Johnny.  He doesn’t think that was his name, though.”

”What do you mean, that wasn’t his name?”

”I don’t know.  It was kinda strange.  He was pretty sure that it’s Johnny.  He told me that he recognized the face, you know, when he saw one of your flyers.  But he didn’t think that the lady called him John.  It was a little confusing.”

“Sounds like it could’ve been a prank call.” 

“No, Roy, I don’t think so.  He sounded really sincere, and he seemed very nice.  It was just that he hadn’t a while since he’d been there, and that he hadn’t talked to the man that much, anyway.  I’m sure he’s just forgotten.  But I don’t know why Johnny wouldn’t be using his name.”

Roy didn’t want to examine the whole thing too closely.  There were too many variables, and none of them seemed very positive.  Yet, there was an undeniable excitement filling him. 

“What about a phone number?”  He finally managed to ask.

“He didn’t have a phone number, but he did leave directions on how to find the place.  I didn’t try information to get a phone number so that we could call.  I was waiting for you.   What do you think?”

“Why don’t you just give me the directions, and I’ll look into it.”

Staring out the glass walls of the phone booth, Roy did his best to take in the information his wife was giving him, while struggling to remain calm.  Only part of the details truly filtered through, but he did manage to get the directions written down.  If this was true, then Johnny was only a four, maybe five hour drive away.

“Joanne, I want you to calm down.  We don’t know if this is Johnny.  But I’ll drive up there this afternoon, and check it out.”

“You’re not going to call first?”

Roy paused for a moment, as he considered her question thoughtfully.

“No, I don’t think I will.”  He finally answered.

“Something tells me to check this out in person.”

“Please, Roy.  Call me, either way.  I want to know what you find out.”

“Of course.  You know I will.  And you’ll let Cap know, right?”

“I called him yesterday.”

Roy’s laugh was only half-hearted, but at least it was a laugh, something neither of them had heard for months.

“I love you.”

“Love you, too.  Talk to you soon.”

“Bye.”

The line was disconnected, and still Roy stood inside the booth, with his hand pressed against the receiver now resting on its hook.  Could any of this be true?  Was Johnny really alive?  And if he was alive, why hadn’t he contacted anyone?

Half excited at the prospect of good news, half dreading the sad outcome he fully expected, Roy forced himself to walk back to the Rover, and pull out the dog-eared road map.  It only took a few minutes to plot his route, and then he was back on the highway, only this time he was heading northeast.

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

Roy stood on the porch, waiting impatiently for an answer to his knock.  Now that he was finally here, his sense of nervousness had grown dramatically.  If Johnny was really okay, and living at this isolated ranch, then why hadn’t he tried to contact his friends?  Was something keeping him from calling home? 

He was unsure of what to expect, but when the white painted door was finally opened, Roy found himself gaping in surprise at the sight of the woman before him.  Gray haired and buxom, the woman was dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt, not the typical outfit you’d expect a lady of her age to be dressed in.  Although she was smiling, the woman’s blue eyes bore into his, and Roy stared back for a moment before forcing himself to speak.

“Excuse me, ma’am, I wonder if you could help me?”

There was the briefest pause, as she seemed to study him thoughtfully.

 

“Well, young man, what do you want?”

“I’m looking for a friend of mine, and I was told that you might have seen him.”

The woman’s smile dissolved into a look of anxiousness, causing Roy to hurry on with his questions, suddenly worried that she may try to close the door in his face.

“I’m sorry to bother you, but this is very important.  Would you mind taking a look at his picture?”   Roy held out the photograph he’d brought along, waiting impatiently for her answer as the woman studied the image on the glossy paper.  He took the opportunity to watch her, anxious to understand the woman’s hesitation.  However, he was totally unprepared for her answer.

“You’re Roy, aren’t you?”

Roy stood as if frozen in place, struggling silently to make sense of her question.  How did she know his name?   He’d never been up this way, didn’t even know of this place until today.

“Ma’am?”

“Is your name Roy?”  The woman repeated.

“Yes . . but how did you?”

“Come in, son.  I think we need to talk.”

Roy forced himself to walk the few feet through the doorway, and waited while the woman closed the screen door behind him.  As soon as he heard the wooden frame bang into place, he turned to face her, his patience completely gone.

“What is this?  How did you know my-”

“He told me.”

“He?  My friend?  Johnny?  He’s alive?  Is he all right?  Where is he?  Can I see-”

“Hold on there.  Slow down a bit.  Yes, he’s all right, very much alive, and healthy as a horse.

Roy’s shoulders slumped in relief; as his previous burst of energy seemed to evaporate into thin air.   He dropped his head, unwilling to allow the woman to study his expression.  The whole ordeal . .  months of worrying and wondering, afraid that his best friend was dead, now to finally find that the man was safe and living on a ranch.  Roy wasn’t sure if he should scream in elation, or find his errant partner and strangle the man. 

“Looks like you’d better sit down before you fall down, young man.” 

Taking advantage of the offered luxury, Roy dropped into the nearest chair, and leaned to rest his face on one hand.  The range of conflicting emotions within him was staggering, and he found that he couldn’t speak for several minutes.  Maybe it was better that he didn’t utter any of his thoughts, for the next bit of information simply caused him further anguish.

“He’s healthy, young man, but he’s probably not the way you remember him.”

Looking up, Roy met the worried eyes of the old woman.

“What do you mean?”

“He looks like your friend . . .  Johnny?”

“Yes, John Gage.   His friends call him Johnny.”

“Oh, well he still looks like your friend, but I suspect he doesn’t act much like him anymore.”

Roy was having trouble following what the woman was getting at, but before he had the chance to interrupt, the woman held up her hand. 

“Let me just explain this, then if you need to ask questions, you can.  All right?”

Unable to find any basis on which to disagree, Roy merely nodded his assent.

“My name’s Bess.  Bess Hilton.  This is my ranch.  Belonged to me and my  husband ‘til he died, now it’s mine.  Few months back, a friend of mine brought this young man up to the house . . don’t think he ever intended for the young man to end up here, but he did.  Poor boy, he’d been in some kind of accident . .  bruised up and had a bad cut on his head.  Worse thing, though, he couldn’t remember who he was or where he was from.”

Bess paused for a moment as her news settled in.  She was worried about what she needed to tell, yet knew that it was important to get the story told before Rick came home.  It didn’t help that the man in front of her looked like he’d just been sucker-punched.

The story wasn’t long, and Roy was a good audience, his focus intent on her every word.  Bess told him of the long hours and hard work that Johnny had put in at the ranch, how he’d grown to be like family to her.  She even shared the troubles he’d had when bits and pieces of his memory seemed to be coming back, and how talking about his past seemed to worry and even upset him.  Several times she even repeated herself, struggling to convey how upset the young man could be after some of his dreams, and how worried she was that memories or information about his previous life might disturb him.  Through it all, her voice was warm and tender, belying how much she’d come to love the young man.

“So that’s why that horse trader told Joanne that Johnny didn’t seem like the right name.”   Roy mumbled, when Bess finished explaining.

“What was that?”

“A horse trader from Idaho called my wife yesterday.  That’s how I found you.”

 

“Must’ve been Wes Benson.  He was here several months back.”

“I think that was the name.   Evidently, he saw one of the flyers we’ve been circulating, and he called my home in California.  I’ve been up here for almost a week, and when I called my wife today, she gave me the directions to your place.”

“I see.   Well yes, we didn’t have any idea what his name was.  And like I told you, he gets very upset when he thinks about who he was, or where he came from.  I want you to understand, young man, I won’t let you upset him.  Not for any reason.”

“He’s my best friend.   I just have to see him, know that he’s all right.  He’s very important to me, and my family . . . his friends.  But I would never do anything-“

So intent were they on their conversation, the two were startled to hear the kitchen screen door slam, and before they were prepared, a dark head poked through the doorway.

“’xcuse me, Bess.  Didn’t wanna interrupt, but I needed to ask you . .”

“No, of course you didn’t interrupt.  My goodness, I didn’t realize how late it was getting to be.  Are you back already?”

“Yeah, everything looked good.”

Bess felt herself relax a bit when Rick flashed her a grin.  He didn’t seem upset, and she felt certain that he hadn’t overheard any of the conversation.  Hurrying over to him, she grasped his arm and pulled him gently forward.

“Good, good.  Well, come on in here, Rick, I want to introduce you to someone.  This is Roy.  He’s my . . . my nephew.  Great nephew, actually, on my sister’s side.   Anyway, he just stopped by to visit, since he was traveling through the area.  Roy, I’d like you to meet my hired hand, Rick.”

With a quick swipe of his hands across his jeans, Rick stepped forward, his right hand extended in greeting.

“Good to meet you, Roy.”

It was almost impossible to keep his expression neutral, but Roy did his best as he clasped the familiar hand in his own.  He hoped the handshake didn’t seem to be too friendly, especially when he had to force himself to release his grasp.  Staring into those brown eyes, Roy waited for some flicker of recognition to appear, but there was none.  Emotions threatened to overwhelm him again until finally, he released his friend’s hand.  Making a mental note to thank Mrs. Hilton for her subterfuge, Roy forced himself to answer Johnny, lightly.

“Rick.  Nice to meet you.”

“Thanks, same here.”

Roy searched for something else to say, grateful to Bess for her quick thinking in claiming him as a nephew, but at a loss for how to prolong the conversation.  Finally, he settled on simple pleasantries.

“So, how do you like it here at my aunt’s ranch?”  Roy choked out.

“I like it a lot.  Your Aunt Bess has been real good to me.”  Rick answered, uneasily.

Bess put her arm around the tall man briefly, almost as if in a protective manner.  But her voice was friendly when she spoke to Roy again.

“Oh, he’s an easy one to be good to.  I tell you, I’ve never met a man more eager to work than this one.  He’s got this ranch running better than ever.  Heavens, I don’t know what I ever did without him.”

“Now, Bess.”  Rick murmured, with ill-concealed embarrassment.

Roy silently watched the exchange, but mostly his eyes remained focused on Johnny.  He looked well; had even put on several pounds since the last time he’d seen . . .   Refusing to allow his mind to dwell on that, Roy continued a mental inventory.   Johnny’s skin was bronzed from the sun; muscles rippling beneath the flannel shirt he wore rolled up at the elbows.  Although his clothes were dusty, he seemed to be in good shape, and most important, there was a smile on his face.

It was hard to keep his emotions in check, so anxious was he to blurt out Johnny’s name, and grab hold of him.   It had been too many long months of worry, months filled with pain and loss, and the underlying fear that he might never see his best friend again.  Now, here he was, only a few feet away.  Yet, Roy couldn’t bridge the gap those few feet represented.   He couldn’t even speak Johnny’s name.  Pushing aside his personal emotions, Roy clenched his fists, and continued to stare.   He knew that he was probably making Johnny nervous, but he simply couldn’t help himself.  

“I’m sorry, Bess, but I need to ask you about that yearling.”  Rick pressed.  “Did you want him held another day or two in case the buyer shows up, or should I take him out to the pasture with the others?”

“Well, I think we’ve waited long enough for Mr. Bates to make up his mind.  Let’s let the little guy have some fun.  But why don’t you wait until tomorrow to move him.  I’m going to fix a special supper, and if you take him out now, you’ll be late getting back.”

“Sure, Bess, whatever you say.”  Rick nodded once, and turned to go back through the kitchen, but stopped as the woman spoke again.

“Why don’t you show Roy around while I’m getting supper started?  I’m sure he’d like to see the place, and I won’t have time for awhile.”

“All right.  Come on, I’ll show you some of Bess’s new stock.”

Roy looked at Bess in surprise, but her look of encouragement was enough to insure him that she was doing what she thought was best.  Swallowing back his urge to question, he simply nodded his acquiescence instead.

“Don’t take too long, though.  I told you I was fixing something special tonight.”

Roy remained mute as he simply fell in behind the dark-haired man and followed him out the door.  He wondered how he’d ever be able to keep up this deception, yet he remembered several things that Bess had mentioned earlier.  If memories upset Johnny, then he needed to be careful.  The last thing he wanted to do was force anything on his friend.  Maybe just being close to him would be enough to bring back the past.  Roy could only hope.

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

Johnny’s long steps carried him quickly toward the barns, but Roy had no problem keeping up.  In fact, their strides matched, almost step for step.  Roy fought back another wave of elation at the keen realization that his partner and best friend was not only alive, but was walking right beside him.  It was a struggle to keep the euphoria out of his voice, as he searched for a safe topic to get them talking.  He finally decided to go with the most obvious.

“So, how long have you worked here with my aunt?”

“Don’t know for sure . . . been awhile . . .”  the young man answered hesitantly.

“Do you like it?”

“Yeah.  Yeah, I do.  She’s been real good to me.”  Johnny paused, as if he wanted to say more, but didn’t.  He sounded very matter-of-fact when he did continue.  “Here’s the first part of the tour.”

Roy nodded at all the right times, and asked the appropriate questions when required.  Mostly he just stared at Johnny as they moved through the various barns and buildings.   He didn’t realize how quiet and unresponsive he’d become until they’d finally ended up at one of the round pens inside the largest barn.  Side by side, they leaned against the rails, each staring quietly at the mare and foal inside.  The surreptitious glances he’d been casting towards his long-time friend were something he’d hoped went unnoticed.

The silence between them lengthened, an awkward quiet.  When Johnny finally turned to stare at the visitor, there was an apologetic smile on his face.

“I’m sorry.  This must seem pretty weird.”

“What’s that?”

“Having a stranger show you around your aunt’s place.  Maybe you’d rather have Bess take you around tomorrow.”

“No!”  Roy stopped himself, realizing that the response was too abrupt.  “I mean, no, that’s okay.  I really don’t mind.  I haven’t seen my aunt in years, and never have been out here. I really appreciate you taking the time.”

There was a long pause, broken only when Johnny cleared his throat.

“Then why do you keep staring at me?”

“I . . . oh man, I’m sorry.”  Roy stuttered.  “I didn’t mean to do that.  It’s just that . . . well, you look like a friend of mine.”

“Oh.”

Johnny nodded quietly, and turned back to watch the animals.  Roy strove to come up with another topic, anything to get a conversation going again, but his mind was a blank.  More appropriately, his mind was a blank when it came to making conversation, but that was only because it was filled with curiosity and questions about his friend, and more than a couple prayers of thanks that Johnny was alive and well.

“Would you look at that?” 

Roy looked up, surprised at the excitement in his partner’s voice.  The minute he followed Johnny’s gaze towards the foal, he understood why.  The little one was full of energy, and seemed to be almost dancing about his mother’s legs.  It was a beautiful, natural sight, and both men stood quietly, enjoying the scene together.

“Jen would love this.”

“Jen?  Who’s that?”

“Oh, sorry.  Jennifer.  My daughter.  She’s in love with horses.  That’s all she talks about these days.  Amazing, how a little girl can graduate straight from Barbie dolls right up to the expensive things.  She’s been begging me for months, to give her riding lessons.”

“Well, they’d be good for her.  If a kid’s going to be around animals, then they should learn how to handle them.  Better than going in unprepared and getting hurt.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.”

“Do you have any other kids?”

“A boy, Chris.  He’s eleven.”   Roy studied Johnny’s expression, anxious to see if the names prompted any recognition.  There was none, but the conversation did seem to break the ice.

“He like horses, too?”

“No.  He’s more interested in baseball and camping.”

Johnny’s laugh was like balm to Roy’s soul.

“Come on, you can help me feed.”

Roy found that there was a lot to do, and plenty to remember.  He was amazed at the things Johnny had to do, and the ease with which he accomplished the evening chores.  It was like he’d been at this job his whole life.  Roy found himself curious about the operation, and began to ask questions, which Johnny answered unerringly.

By the time they returned to the house, the conversation was relaxed and friendly.   The familiar banter between them almost made Roy think that things were back to normal, and that any moment, Johnny would turn to him and ask about Joanne, the kids, or the guys at the station.   However, as they walked up the steps to the kitchen door, he was quickly brought back to reality.  Bess was calling out, her voice shaky, as if she were out of breath.

“Rick?  Oh, I’m glad you’re here.”

 
”Bess?  What’s wrong?  Where are you?”

Rushing through the open door, he almost collided with the woman, as she came out of the dining room.   Grasping her arms, he tried to move her toward a chair near the table.

“What did you do?  Are you all right?”

“Land-sakes, boy.  Where’s the fire?  I don’t need to sit down.  I’m fine.  What’s gotten into you?”

Bess swatted at his hands, stiffening as he tried to help her sit down.  Roy would have been amused, if he wasn’t worried that the woman may have fallen, or injured herself in some way.

”You sure you’re okay?”  Johnny persisted, as he finally got her seated, and visually checked her over.

Her voice softened some, as she watched him squat down in front of her.

“Rick, settle down, son.  I’m all right.   I was just tryin’ to move that old buffet around a bit.  Dropped a tablecloth down behind it, and couldn’t reach it.  Darn old body, won’t let me do a thing I want to, anymore.”

Sitting back on his heels, Johnny put his trembling hands on the chair, one on either side of her.

“You mean to tell me that you were trying to move that heavy piece of furniture all by yourself?   Woman, that was a stupid thing to do.  You could’ve really hurt yourself!"

Johnny’s voice was filled with frustration, but it also held a very serious overtone of concern.  Roy observed the scene, suddenly aware that there was a deeper bond here than just an employer and employee relationship.   He watched as Bess reached out and cupped Johnny’s cheek with a wiry hand.

“I’m fine, son.  Just fine.  You worry too much.”

“Uh huh.”

“Oh, come on now, this is much too serious.  I was just calling you for a little help.  You know, so you could use some of that muscle you’re always showing off to the ladies.  Come on, both of you, and help me get the table set.  Dinner’s almost ready.”

Johnny looked up, looking somewhat embarrassed when he realized that Roy had been watching the whole time.

“Umm, I’m sorry.  You probably want to help your aunt . . .”

Johnny stood up and moved back, as if he were in the way, then quickly stepped into the dining room.  Roy could hear the buffet being moved into place as he reached out to help Bess up. 

“He’s a little sensitive, don’t you think?”  She muttered, brushing aside his helping hand.

Roy smiled at her, and nodded slightly.

“Always has been.”

Bess didn’t smile, but nodded slowly as she turned to the stove, and busied herself with the dinner preparations.  After Johnny retrieved the tablecloth, she hurriedly set the table, urging the men to wash their hands while she dished up the steaming food.

Seated across the table from Johnny an hour later, Roy found himself grateful again.  It was so good to look up and see his friend’s face, hear the man’s familiar laugh.  Even his habits remained the same.  Though Johnny was completely unaware of his actions, each time he splayed his hand across his chest, Roy felt a strange tightening in his own.  If only he didn’t have to call him Rick.

“Bess, that was a great meal.  As usual.”

“Oh, you’re just happy cause I made that apple pie I promised you.”

“Well, there was that . . . even if you did make me wait.”

“Wait?  You only asked for it a few days ago, and you knew I had all that work in the garden . . . “

His quick laugh turned her frown into a smile.

“It was worth the wait, Bess.”

“Oh, go on with you.”

Bess got up, and slowly began to gather the empty dishes, Johnny immediately jumping up to help.

“Here, let me help you with that.”   Roy offered.

He wished he could eat his words when he saw their effect on Johnny’s demeanor.  The younger man stood still for a moment, then quietly set the vegetable dish back on the table.

“Well, if Roy’s going to help out, and you don’t mind Bess, then I think I’m going to work in the tack room for awhile.”

“Sure, Rick.  That’s fine.”

“All right then.  You two enjoy your visit.”

Without a backward glance, Johnny headed out into the night.  The air was already turning cold, but he didn’t bother to grab his jacket from the hook behind the door.  Bess watched as the door slammed closed behind him.

“He usually spends the evening in here,” she murmured quietly.

Roy stared at the door for several minutes before answering.

“Maybe he thought we’d like some time alone, since we’re supposed to be related.”

“Oh, yes . . .sorry about that.”  Bess smiled apologetically.  “It’s the only thing I could come up with, real quick like.”

“Hey, no problem.  It’s worked out fine.  And I appreciate your letting me stay.”

“Of course.  I can see how much you care about him.”  Bess grew quiet again, as she piled the dishes in the sink.

“There’s one thing I’m curious about, though.”

“What’s that?”

“How did you know my name?”  Roy questioned, as he picked up a dishtowel.

“I was right, wasn’t I?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

There was another long silence, while Bess filled the sink with water.  Roy almost missed her response.

“He used to dream a lot.  Nightmares, really.  In the beginning, it was almost every night, and sometimes in the afternoon, if he’d doze off after dinner.  He would call out for Roy, and some others, too.  But mostly he called for Roy.  I just knew it had to be someone he was close to.  Someone he probably depended on.”

“We’re partners.”

Roy’s answer was almost so soft that Bess turned to stare at him.    

“Partners?”

“Yes.  We’re firemen/paramedics for Los Angeles County in California.”

“Oh, well that explains some things.”

“It does?”

“Yes.  The dreams . . . there were times when I wondered what he’d done in the past that would made him talk that way.  Like he was in dangerous situations.”

“He was.  Many times.”  Roy answered quietly.

Bess went about washing her dishes, seeming to concentrate on the job at hand, but Roy sensed that wasn’t the case.   She didn’t disappoint him.

“Do you know what happened to him?  How he ended up here?”

Roy hesitated for a moment, before answering.

“We don’t know for sure.  Johnny drove up here alone for his vacation, after a friend told him about the great fishing in Oregon.  Somewhere along the way, he wrecked his car, and by the time someone found it, he was gone.  We’ve been looking for him ever since.”

“Harold found him alongside the road one day.”  Bess added.  “He didn’t look too good, but Harold sensed that he was a decent man.  So he picked him up, intending to take him home.  He only made it as far as my place.  Been here ever since.”

“It looks like you’ve been good for each other.”

“We have.”  Bess faltered.  “I don’t know what I’d do without him.”

They finished the dishes in silence.  There was no animosity; just a quiet break while each one contemplated their private thoughts.  When they’d put away the last dish, and wiped the last counter, Roy made his request.

“I wonder if I could use your phone.  There’re some people at home who need to know what I’ve found out.”

Bess’s frown wasn’t the answer Roy expected.

“I don’t mind paying, of course.  Whatever you think is fair for the charges, I-”

“No!  Oh, no, it’s not that.”  Bess motioned for Roy to have a seat on the upholstered sofa as they moved into the parlor.  “Of course I don’t mind if you use the phone.  Call whomever you need to, and talk as long as you like, young man.  The only reason I hesitated is . . well.  You know, we’re a little behind the times out here, and our phone company hasn’t done much upgradin’.  We’re still sharing a party line, and my neighbor, Lizzie Watts, is one of the biggest busybodies you’d ever hope to meet.  Doesn’t seem to matter what time of the day or night you’re on the phone, she’ll be there, listenin’ in.  I’m just worried about what’d happen if she figured out that you know Rick.  It’d be all over the countryside by mornin’, and right after that, some well-meanin’ neighbor would mention it to him.  Don’t think either one of us wants that to happen.”

 

Roy remained silent as he digested this latest piece of information.  He desperately needed to call home, and if he did, there was no way he could keep this from Joanne.  All she’d have to do was hear the tone of his voice to know that he had good news.  Then, there was the call he wanted to place to Dr. Brackett.  But if Bess was right, he knew he couldn’t take the chance that Johnny might be told information he wasn’t ready to hear.

“Bess, is there a payphone anywhere close by?”

“Down at Walker’s store, but that’s about ten miles from here.  They’re all closed up tight by now.”  Bess pushed herself from the wooden rocker and began to pace the room.  It was her third turn around the narrow space before she stopped and smiled.  “How about I send you on an errand tomorrow after breakfast?  Rick will be movin’ the yearlings out to pasture, so you could drive down then, and he’d never suspect a thing.”

Roy’s expression must’ve been obvious.  Bess almost laughed, but stopped herself and smiled warmly instead.

“Course, you’d probably like to spend a little time with him, wouldn’t ya?”

“Yes.  Yes, I would.”

The two were silent again, until Roy finally stood and walked towards the kitchen.

“Watcha gonna do?”  Bess asked curiously.

“I’m going to call my wife, and try to be as discreet as possible.  If I can get my message across to her, then I’ll be free to go out with Joh . . Rick, tomorrow morning.  The other call will have to wait.  I just wanted to ask some questions of a doctor we both know.”

“Oh, well, Rick has already been seen by a doctor, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I’m grateful for that, Bess, but I still want to talk to Dr. Brackett.  I need to find out if he has any suggestions on how to help Johnny.  But I’m willing to wait on that for a few days, if I have to.”

“All right, young man.  I guess I’ll have to trust that you know best about that.  My only concern is for that young man out there.  I’ve grown to care about him.  A lot.  I don’t want anything, or anyone, to hurt him.  And that includes you.”

Roy moved closer before stopping directly in front of the woman.  With his most assuring tone, he answered her quietly.

“Believe me, Bess, I feel the same way.”

He waited until she nodded at him, before walking into the kitchen and picking up the receiver.  Standing next to the wall phone, he hesitated for a moment before dialing.  There was no mistaking the small click he heard on the line, and he wondered how anyone could be so nosey.  Shaking his head, he slowly dialed his home number and waited for Joanne to pick up.

“DeSoto Residence.”

“Hi Joanne!”

“Roy?  Honey, are you okay?  Where are you?”

Tilting his head slightly, Roy could see that Bess was standing just outside the kitchen door. 

“I’m fine.  No problem here.  Just decided to spend a few days with my aunt while I’m here in Oregon.”

“You’re aunt?  Roy, you don’t-”

“You remember Aunt Bess, don’t you?  She’s the one on my dad’s side . . .he used to talk about her all the time.”

The pause on the other end lengthened, and Roy knew that his wife was trying to figure out what kind of game he was playing.  Okay, he had to work fast here, or the old biddy in the middle of this conversation was going to get curious.

“Well, maybe you don’t remember her, but I promised my dad that if I was ever up this way, I’d stop and see her.  Since I was in the area, I figured now was the time.  You don’t mind, do you, sweetheart?”

“Ummm, no . . I guess not.”

Joanne’s tone was none-to-happy, and Roy could only imagine her expression about now.  

“But what about the reason for your trip?  Did you find-”

“Yes, I did!  Can’t tell you much right now, but I found the place I was looking for.  And that tip was real.  You wouldn’t believe how good it feels to know that our hunch was right.”

 

“Oh, Roy . . . are you serious?   It really was true?  Johnny’s okay?”

Roy almost choked, but fought down his concern in favor of keeping the conversation light.

“Yep.  But listen, hon, I really can’t talk any longer.  My aunt has a young man staying here . . guy by the name of ‘Rick’, and I promised him I’d help with the evening chores before turning in.  You’d really like him, reminds me of one of the guys I used to work with.  But he’s probably waiting on me, so I’ll call you back in a few days, and let you know how things are going, and when I’ll be home.”

This time, there was no mistaking Joanne’s tone.

“You have to hang up now?  But I have so many questions, and the kids want to talk to you.  Why can’t you talk a little-”

“I’m sorry, Joanne, really.  I’ll tell you about the whole trip when I get home, but not long-distance, okay?  Just give my boss a call, will you, and let him know what’s going on.  Tell him everything’s okay, and that he’ll have his whole crew back before he knows it.  Night, hon, I love you.”

“Well . . okay, yes . . I’ll call him.  I love you, too, Roy.  Bye . . .”

Joanne’s pause was her indication for more discussion, but Roy knew he couldn’t say much more.  And if the kids got on the line, there would be enough questions running through Miss Lizzie’s mind to launch a full-scale investigation.  Nope, he had to say goodbye, and hope that Joanne had gleaned enough to tide her over until the next call.  The excited tone of her voice when she’d agreed to call Cap, left him to believe that she had.

“Bye.”

As he hung up the receiver, Bess moved into the room to stand beside him.

“Well, what do you think?”

Her laugh was filled with respect, and more than a little relief.

“I think you did a mighty fine job.  You sure you don’t work for the police?  Maybe a detective or undercover man?”

Roy’s laughter joined hers.

“No.  No police work.  But I’ve learned a few tricks from a couple guys who love to pull pranks on one another.  Guess some of their scheming has rubbed off on me.”

Bess simply nodded as she patted his arm.

 

“You’re all right, Roy.  You’re all right.”

The two chatted quietly after that, and it was quite late when Johnny finally showed up at the back door again.  His shirt was dirty, his hair speckled with bits of hay, proof that his time in the barn had been well spent, if a bit unnecessary.

Bess didn’t bother to chastise him.  Her young friend had thought he was doing what was best, and she couldn’t fault him for that.  Besides, it had given her and Roy a chance to get to know each other.   And Rick, or Johnny . . . she knew him better too.  Better than he knew himself right now.  She longed to be able to talk with him about his past, comfort him, reassure him that there was nothing for him to be worried or ashamed about, but Bess wouldn’t do anything to hurt this young man.  And if there was even a slight possibility that making him remember could be harmful, then she wouldn’t do it.  No, it was better to let things move slowly.

She’d offered, and Roy had accepted her invitation to stay at the ranch for a while.  It was going to be a hardship on his young family, but that wasn’t his concern right now.  He’d assured her that his wife would understand, and would be supportive.  But more than anything, it was obvious that he needed to spend some time with his friend.  So for now, she’d provided him with a way to stay close, and maybe in the end, his presence would help bring back Rick’s memory.

Whether that was something she really wanted or not, Bess was unwilling to explore her feelings about.  It was enough that she was doing the right thing.  The rest, well . . .the rest she’d leave in God’s hands.

The door banged closed, and she forced herself to paste a smile on her face.

“’bout time you got back up here.  Didn’t we have a cribbage game to finish tonight?”

“Yeah, sorry about that.  But I figured you’d like to have some time alone with Roy.  We can always finish that game later.”

“Yes, you’re right.”  Bess agreed, though silently she wondered if they’d ever spend another quiet evening alone, as they had throughout the summer.

“Is Roy planning to bunk down with me?”

“I thought that’d be best.”

“Sure.  I kinda figured that, since you’ve got that quilting spread all over the spare room.”

Bess laughed outright.

“You scamp.”

Turning to Roy, she winked slyly.

“Hope you don’t mind, but there’s an extra bed in the bunkhouse.  It belongs to Rocky, but he’s still up in Portland with his sister.  Don’t know when, or if, that man will be back on the ranch.  Old coot.”

Johnny winked at Roy this time, unaware that he was following the old lady’s lead.

“She misses him.”

“Yeah, like I’d miss a toothache.”

“The bunkhouse will be fine.”  Roy smiled, enjoying the repartee between these two.  “If you’re sure Rocky won’t mind.”

“We won’t tell him.”  Bess laughed.

After saying a quick goodnight, the two men made their way to the sleeping quarters.  It was obvious that Johnny had been there ahead of time, getting things ready.  Lights shown through the windows, and as they went in, Roy was surprised at the homey atmosphere within.  It was warm and comfortable, completely different than he expected. 

It didn’t take long to get cleaned up, and settled under the covers.  There was no teasing or small talk, like there would’ve been back at Station 51.  But Roy felt very content when he looked across the room and saw Johnny crook his arm over his eyes.

“Night, Roy.”  The man murmured tiredly.

“Night, Jo. . .Rick.”

Roy switched off the small lamp, and snuggled under the covers.  The night temperature had dropped, making the warmth of his bed feel good.  His mind replayed the events of the day for only a few minutes, before the rest of his body took over, and sent him into a deep, but satisfied sleep.

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

The movement in the other bunk was unmistakable, the moaning incoherent but familiar.  Roy had slept next to Johnny enough years to recognize his partner in the throes of a nightmare.  The only problem this time, was in knowing the best way to help him.   As the moans turned into pleas for help, Roy threw caution to the wind, and jumped into action.

“Johnny!”  Roy shook his head in frustration.  “Rick!  Rick, wake up.  You’re okay . . .everything’s all right.”

The movement had turned to thrashing, but only for a moment before Johnny’s eyes flew open . .  . his chest heaving, sweat pooling on his forehead.  Dark eyes stared up from the bunk, unseeing at first, then finally recognizing his surroundings.

Roy managed to flip the light on, while keeping a hand on his friend’s shoulder.

“You okay, now?”

“Yeah, yeah.  Man, I’m sorry.  I don’t know what . . .”

His voice trailed off, as Johnny looked uncomfortably from spot to spot, his eyes never resting on Roy for more than a second.

“It’s okay.  Really, you-“

“Excuse me.”

Shrugging off Roy’s hand, Johnny bolted from the bed, barely taking time to pull on his jeans, and stuff his feet into the boots at the end of his bed.  He almost left without his jacket, only grabbing it up at the last minute before flinging the door open, and stomping into the night.  The door swung back but didn’t latch, swinging back instead until it stopped halfway between closed and open.

From his vantage point where he still sat on the floor next to Johnny’s bunk, Roy could see through the door all the way to the corral outside.  Though the hour was late, an autumn moon lit the sky like day, making it easy to watch the scene unfold.

Johnny’s footsteps were quick and determined at first, but by the time he reached the fence railing, his feet were dragging, as if he’d lost all sense of direction.  Roy didn’t move, choosing to remain still, his focus intent on the man outside.  One foot cocked on the lowest rail, Johnny laid his arms on the top.  He stood that way for more than a few minutes, completely still, head raised towards the moonlit sky.  And then, he dropped his head onto his arms.  Unmoving, he stayed in that position until Roy couldn’t bear it any longer.

Dressing quickly, he only took his eyes off his friend for a minute.  But in that short space, Johnny had straightened up, and was now fiddling with something in his jacket.  Stepping out of the bunkhouse, Roy could see that his best friend, his partner, was now lighting a cigarette, trembling fingers clearly visible in the moonlight.

Roy stopped next to him, hesitating only a moment before placing a hand on Johnny’s shoulder.

“You all right?”

“Yeah.  Sorry I woke ya.”

“Not a problem.  I’m used to getting up in the middle of the night.”

“Oh, that’s right.  You’re a fireman, aren’t you?”

“Uh huh.”

Johnny took another puff on his cigarette, watching the smoke as it drifted slowly away on the night air.  Roy fought back the urge to snatch the thing from his friend’s fingers, the same way he fought back the overwhelming desire to lay his arm across Johnny’s shoulders to reassure him.   Instead, he tried to think of some way to get his friend talking.

“Was it bad?”

“What?  The dream?”

“Yeah.”

“No. . . some. . .”

“Wanna talk about it?”

Another pause while Johnny stared at his cigarette, before dropping it in the dirt where he ground it out with his heel.

“Not much to talk about.   Someone’s hurt . . .I’m trying to help him.  There’s smoke . . . lots of voices.   I think I have the guy’s hand, and then . . . then nothing.”

“Sounds like you’ve had this dream before.”

“Similar ones.”   He looked up at Roy, his expression almost pleading in its sincerity.  “Thing is, it doesn’t make sense.  The feeling, I mean.  Like my heart is being torn out of my chest or something, I wake up in a cold sweat, every time.  But I don’t know why.”

“Maybe it’s from the past.”  Roy suggested.

His comment caused Johnny to stiffen perceptibly.

“Bess told you.”

“She mentioned that you’d had some problems.  I hope you don’t mind.  Guess she figured I was family, and wanted me to know.”  Roy lied.

“No, I don’t mind.”  Johnny relaxed some.  “I guess it’s only right she’d tell you.  And she’s been good to me . . .”  his voice trailed off.

They stood quietly together, the night still around them.

“It’s getting cold out here.  How about we go in and finish talking there.”

“Nahh, how about we get some sleep.  There’re a lot of chores waiting for me tomorrow.”

The two men turned and slowly walked back towards the bunkhouse.  They were almost to the doorway before Johnny spoke, his voice almost teasing.

“Hey, was your aunt ever in the Army?”

Roy laughed with relief.  He recognized Johnny’s tactics, but felt it was better to let the issue slide for now, at least until he had a chance to Dr. Brackett.  When they finally settled into their bunks again, Johnny crooked his arm over his face then spoke quietly.

“Thanks, Roy.”

There was no way that Roy could respond.  Something in his throat kept the sound from escaping.  Instead, he put his hand over his own eyes, and wished for a miracle.

Sunshine filled the room when Roy opened his eyes again.  He rubbed them slowly, wondering at the late hour, and the unfamiliar feeling of peace that filled his waking moments.  It had been a long time since he’d felt this good.   Since before Johnny had . . .

Sitting up, Roy anxiously scanned the empty room.  Johnny’s bed was neatly made, but there was no sign of him.

Jumping to his feet, Roy jammed them hurriedly into his faded jeans, then slid his arms into a cotton shirt.  He didn’t take time to grab his jacket, barely getting his shoes on before stumbling through the bunkhouse door.  Searching the yard for any sign of his missing friend, Roy half walked, half ran as he made his way toward the house.   Reaching the back door, he barely knocked before pushing his way into the kitchen.  Bess looked up in surprise, as he struggled to calm down.

”Where is he?   Where did he go?  When?”

“Now, now . . calm down, Roy.   Here, sit at the table while I pour you a cup of coffee.  For pete’s sake, you sure have yourself all riled up this morning.”

She filled a white ceramic mug with hot coffee, pushing it in front of him firmly.  He obeyed her silently, using the diversion to get himself under control.  After he’d sipped at the black brew for a few minutes, she patted him reassuringly on the shoulder then sat down beside him.

“He hasn’t gone far.  I suspect he didn’t sleep well last night, cause he was up bright and early this morning.   He left a note for me, does that from time to time when he’s heading out early, and said he was going up to the high pasture to check some fencing.”

“Was that something he planned to do?”  Roy interrupted.

“No, but then that boy does have a mind of his own.”

“Always has.”  Roy added.

Bess laughed, but then turned sober again.

“Was everything okay last night?”

Roy studied her expression, surprised at the depth of concern he read on the old woman’s face.  It was obvious that she cared deeply for Johnny, and from all the signs, it looked like the feeling was mutual.  He wondered, briefly, if this new relationship was affecting Johnny’s memory, or lack thereof.

“Roy?”

“Huh?  Oh, last night . . . umm, he had a dream.  Seemed to really upset him at first, but we talked a little, then went back to sleep.  I thought he was okay.”

“I’m sure he is.  But he gets like this sometimes, after he’s had one of his nightmares.  Takes him two, even three days to get over it.  I still haven’t figured out if the dreams are something he fears, or something he remembers.”

“Memories.”

“Are you sure?”

“Pretty sure.  He’s talking about rescues, fires . . . things we’ve dealt with on the job.”

“Oh.  Well, I kind of thought so.”

Bess stared into her own coffee cup, as if looking for answers.   When she spoke again, her voice was low, but full.

“I just can’t figure out if he’s afraid to remember, or afraid not to.” 

Silence spread between them, until finally the woman seemed to pull herself together and stood up. 

“I bet you’re hungry.  How about a big breakfast?”

“Don’t go to any trouble, Bess.   Just some juice and toast would be fine.”

“Good Lord, that’s not a breakfast.  Sounds more like a snack to me.  You just sit there and drink your coffee, young man, and I’ll show you what a real breakfast looks like.”

Roy grinned as she bustled over to the stove, and lit the first burner.  He watched her for a few minutes, considering his question.  Finally, he decided he had to know.

“Bess?”

“Huh?”

“Why do you call him Rick?”

She stopped for a moment, as if surprised at the question, then returned to her cooking while she answered.

“Had to call him something.  Couldn’t just be hollering ‘hey you’ at the poor boy.  We talked about it a little, the first day he was here.  It seemed to make him nervous, not knowing who he was, so I tried to be real casual when I suggested a few names.  He was the one that perked up when I mentioned Rick, so we just stuck with that one.  Why?”

“He recognized it?”

“Well, not really.  I mean, not like he answered to it at first, or anything.  But he seemed comfortable with Rick, and that seemed to be the most important thing at the time.”

“Oh.” 

It was Roy’s turn to stare into his coffee, wondering at the strange twist of fate that made people choose the things they did.  He didn’t realize that Bess had set a plate of eggs in front of him, until she called to him for what must have been the second time.

“You okay?”

“Yeah.  Yes . . sorry.  Just thinking.”

“Do you think it was wrong?  To call him Rick?”

“No, not at all.  I just found it interesting.  See, Johnny’s middle name is Roderick, and though that may be stretching it a bit, I just wondered if you calling him Rick sounded familiar to him.”

“Well, I don’t know about that, but I do know it fits him.  Now dig in.  You may not think so, but you’re needin’ a good breakfast.  After that, maybe you’d like to drive down to the payphone.  It’ll probably be at least noon before Rick shows up, and that would give you plenty of time to make those calls you wanted to.”

“Will that make him suspicious?”
 

“No, course not.  It’s not like there’s a lot of places to go around here.  And if it’ll make you feel better, I’ll give you a short list of things to pick up.  We do our big shopping in town, but there’s always a thing or two we need in between trips.  He’s used to me sending him down the road for something.”

“Okay, that would be great.  Thanks, Bess.   I’m anxious to call home again, and this might work out for the best.”

“Things usually do.”  Bess murmured quietly.

Roy didn’t know if she’d meant for him to hear or not, but he hoped that in this case, things worked out for everyone.  Bess was a nice woman, and he hated to see her hurt.  But if there was any way in this world that Johnny could regain his memory, then Roy was going to do everything in his power to see that happen.

 Part 4