Journey Into Uncertainty

Part 4

Kel Brackett leaned back in his leather chair, tiredly surveying the pile of folders on his desk.  There were charts to look over, schedules to confirm, surgical information he needed to read.  None of it appealed to him.  In fact, there was nothing right now that convinced him to do anything at all.

It had been a grueling twelve hours, a shift he was glad to be done with.  Dixie said that shifts like this came with the full moon.  He didn’t know whether to laugh at the superstition, or agree with her.  

The busy evening had been followed by a horrific night, filled with accident victims from a MVA on the 405.  It was capped off by an extremely difficult case brought in by 36’s, a young woman who had died less than thirty minutes earlier. 

Kel rubbed his right arm tiredly, anticipating the necessary writing he was going to have to do.  Soon.  He leaned back a little further in the chair, letting his eyes move away from the desk and up to the ceiling.  A little nap would be nice about now. 

The phone picked that exact minute to ring, and Kel sighed deeply.   But he only moved far enough to snag the receiver and pull it to his ear.

“Brackett.”

“Doctor Brackett?  It’s Roy.  Doc!  Doc, I found him!”

“What?  Roy.  Roy, is that you?   Is it . . . Johnny?  You found Johnny?  What happened?  How is he-”

“He’s okay, Doc.  I mean he’s okay physically.  But he doesn’t recognize me. Doesn’t seem to remember anything about his life in LA, or being a fireman.   Nothing.  I don’t know what to do, or what to say . . .  I need your help.”

Roy’s voice was filled with excitement, like a young child at Christmas who was showing off his new toys for the first time.  It seemed like he was barely taking time to breathe.   Kel rubbed his forehead, then leaned back in his chair, as he struggled to control his own excited thoughts.

“Roy, this is great news.  Now, calm down a little, and tell me everything you know, okay?.”

“Sure, Doc.  Sorry.  It’s just . . . well, I still can’t believe I found him.  And I can’t really say much around him.  See he’s up at this ranch . . . “

For the next fifteen minutes, Brackett first listened to, then counseled one of his top paramedics on what he should and/or shouldn’t do for their friend.  In the end, he didn’t know if his advice would be of any help.  With an injury like Johnny’s, there were so many variables.  

In the end, he wished Roy luck, and asked him to keep in touch.  As he laid the receiver back in place, he stared at it for several minutes, knowing that there was little else he could do. 

Kel couldn’t help but wish though, that things had been different.  That he’d been the treating physician, or at least had access to Johnny’s initial care.  But from what little information Roy could give him, it didn’t sound like Johnny had any care.  That made the case all the more puzzling.    Was he suffering from some physical problem?  A head injury that caused irreparable damage, possibly even a chemical imbalance?  Or was his memory loss tied to something less intangible?  Maybe something to do with the emotional stress he’d been under during those last few days on the job.  Kel longed to sit down with Johnny himself, but that wasn’t possible.  So for now, he had given Roy as much advice as he could, and prayed that something he said would help.

A quiet knock on the door caught his attention.  Seconds later, the door opened a crack, and a familiar face appeared before him.

“Kel?  Everything all right?  I knocked several times.”

“Sorry Dix, I was lost in thought.”

“Oh. Well, I didn’t want to interrupt.  I just thought you should go home, and get some-”

“Dix . . . sit down.”

“Why?   Kel, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong.  Just . . .   Here, sit down.”

He stood up and walked her to one of the chairs in front of his desk.  Then, sitting opposite her, he smiled.

“Roy just called in.  He’s found him.  Johnny’s alive.”

“Johnny?  He’s alive!  Oh my God.  That’s wonderful!  Where is he?  What happened?”

Kel grinned widely for the first time, his own relief only now coming to the surface.  Whatever the problem with Johnny’s memory, at least their young friend was alive and well.  Roy had found him, and maybe his presence would be the push Johnny needed for his memory to return.

“Here.”  Kel smiled indulgently, as he handed her his handkerchief, not the least surprised that his friend was a little emotional over the news.  “Dry your eyes, and I’ll tell you what I know.”

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

Roy DeSoto was a patient man, but this constant waiting was beginning to wear on even his tolerant nature.   The problem was, he didn’t know what he was waiting for.  He knew better than to expect that Johnny would suddenly look over at him and say ‘Hi Pally, how are ya?’  Yet in some strange way, Roy suspected that’s exactly what he was waiting for.  And the more time he spent here with Johnny, the more he doubted that his waiting would ever be over. 

It had been four days since he’d knocked on Bess’s front door, four very full days.   His trip to the store that first morning had been uneventful.  There were few customers while he was there, and the small corner phone booth had been fairly private. 

Joanne had been more than understanding, after he’d had a chance to explain.  She’d even laughed at his frustration with Ms. Lizzie Watts, who’d kept their previous conversation to a minimum.  But he could also tell she was fighting back tears when the conversation turned to Johnny.  It was hard to explain how he could be standing right next to his best friend, and go unrecognized.  It was harder still, to make her understand that he might be coming home alone. 

Roy was grateful that he’d called while the kids were in school.  He didn’t think he could’ve handled trying to answer their questions long-distance.  Joanne had promised to do her best to make them understand, and Roy choked back a bitter laugh at that.  How could he expect them to understand what he couldn’t?

His call to Dr. Brackett had been less than fruitful, for although the good doctor had given him suggestions of symptoms to watch for, he had no concrete answers to Johnny’s condition.  Again Roy fought against laughing at himself.   Did he really expect Brackett to diagnosis Johnny’s problem over the telephone?  

On the drive back to the ranch that morning, Roy had answered his own question.  He simply wanted someone else to fix everything, wave a magic wand and make the problem disappear.  He wanted Johnny to be his old self, but the hard cold truth was that might never happen. 

By the time he pulled into Bess’s yard and saw Johnny working in the paddock, Roy had at least consoled himself with the fact that his family and friends knew what was happening.  And it had made him feel a little better to talk to Dr. Brackett.  There was only one other person he needed to speak with, and that was Hank Stanley.  But the engine had been out on a run, and his latest partner, Tom, said they weren’t expected back for several hours.  So Roy had left a message for Cap to call Dr. Brackett himself.  At the time it had seemed easier than relaying all the information through Tom, but later he admitted to himself that he didn’t feel comfortable telling his temporary partner all the personal details about his real partner.  Roy shook his head at his strange line of thinking.  As if he would betray Johnny by talking to Tom.

The last person he’d called from the phone booth had been Detective Saunders.  Dale had been happy to hear the news, and genuinely relieved that Johnny was all right.  Of course, there were still unanswered questions, such as why no one had come forward sooner, in view of the many posters they’d plastered over half the state.  But as the detective had been careful to remind him, this area was pretty remote.  So, with Johnny spending most of his time on the secluded ranch, and with scant police coverage in the district, it was possible that none of the information had made it to the general public, or at least to anyone that had seen Johnny and put two and two together.

Unfortunate, the detective had called it.  Roy wanted to call it something else, but had held back.  After all, the man had worked for months to find Johnny.  No one could fault him for the size of the state, and who would’ve ever thought that one victim would have traveled hundreds of miles from the accident site, to end up at an isolated ranch.

As he stepped out of the Rover, Johnny’s voice caused him to turn abruptly.

“That your rig?”

“Uhh, yeah.  I mean, no.  It’s my friend’s.”

“Ahh.  Nice.”

“You like it?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“You want to take it for a drive?”

Johnny had stopped at that point, looking closely at the white Land Rover.  His brow furrowed unnaturally, and Roy suddenly felt as if he’d cheated in some way.  He didn’t know how to take back his offer, so he waited patiently for an answer.

“Nah.  Too much work today.  Maybe some other time.”

Johnny had walked back towards the barn, pitchfork in hand, and Roy dutifully followed him.  From that point on, he’d pretty much shadowed his partner.  Morning ‘til night, he’d worked side by side with Johnny, learning his friend’s new daily routine.  They spent hours working around the horses and the barns, and Roy had a firm grasp of the fence lines and pastures.  Johnny showed it all to him.  All but the high pasture, which he said he was saving for Saturday.   The evenings were spent with Bess, and sometimes Harold.  The food was excellent, and the friendly card games made the time pass quickly.    Roy had enjoyed every minute of it, but time was passing, and he couldn’t stay here indefinitely.

Looking over at Johnny now, he had a feeling that things were truly spinning out of control.  While his friend slept soundly, Roy longed for the same peace.  He was too tired to get up, and too wound up to sleep.  He had to get in touch with Joanne, and he really needed to call Cap about his extended vacation.  There were too many responsibilities waiting at home, yet he couldn’t stand the thought of driving away and leaving Johnny here.  Maybe forever.

A slight moan caught his attention, and Roy sat up in his bunk, but Johnny settled almost immediately, his breathing becoming slow and regular again.  Only one other nightmare had disturbed their sleep since that first night, and Roy was hopeful that his presence was keeping them at bay.  Would this be just another thing to regret when he left?  He couldn’t help but wonder, was he helping Johnny in some way, by being here?  And would his leaving affect his friend, even if he didn’t regain his memory?

Turning on his side, Roy punched his pillow in an effort to get comfortable.  Tomorrow he’d have to make some kind of decision. 

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

Reining his horse to a stop, Rick looked back along the narrow roadway, watching with interest as Roy slowly guided his mount carefully up the steep incline.  It couldn’t really be classified as a road, even though he had managed to drive the old battered jeep up the rock-strewn ruts several months ago.  The passage would be better described as a thin ledge, jutting out of a sheer canyon wall.  It could be a treacherous ascent, but it was the only way to the high pasture.

Roy was taking the path slowly, his mount steady and sure, and Rick was impressed with his new friend’s willingness.  It wasn’t a route for the faint-hearted.  He didn’t especially like the climb, either, but he’d come to love the view from above so much, that he made the trip as often as possible.   He smiled widely when he heard the man holler up to him.

“You sure picked a helluva route, par-  . . . Rick.” 

“Yeah, but you’ll think it’s worth it when you see what’s on top.”

“I sure hope so.”  Roy took a hesitant glance over the side.  “Looks like a trail for a mountain goat.”

“You’re probably right.  I think they used to have some of those around here.”

“That’s about all it’s good for.”

“Well, the pasture above is definitely good for something, just not for horses.”

“Then what are we doing up here looking at it?”  Roy questioned, as he drew nearer.

“For the cows.”

“Cows?  What cows?”

“The ones that’ll be living up here next spring.  Now that we have the fences all repaired, Bess is going to rent out this high pasture to a neighboring rancher.  His herd will do well up here, and Bess will be able to use the cash.”

“Oh.” 

Roy’s simple answer wasn’t lost on Rick.   The older man looked rather winded, and somewhat shaken when he finally pulled his horse to a stop. 

“Didn’t care for the scenery?”

“Nah, scenery was fine.”  Roy panted.  “It was the drop-off I could’ve done without.”

Rick threw back his head and laughed, his dark hair ruffling in the breeze.   The look on Roy’s face caught him by surprise, and he sobered instantly.  It was like this sometimes.  More than once he’d found Roy staring at him, as if trying to figure out some dark secret.  It was unnerving, yet he liked Bess’s nephew, and felt relaxed and comfortable when they were together.  Except for times like this, when he caught Roy staring at him intently.

“Come on, let’s go see your aunt’s hidden fortune.”  

The two men urged their mounts forward, quickly leaving the steep rocky path behind.  Ahead of them stretched abundant pasture, its grasses now showing autumn’s yellow color.  But in the spring, it promised to be full of plentiful feed for another man’s cows. 

They rode in silence for almost an hour.  During that time, Rick’s eyes had constantly roamed the horizon, torn between the fantastic views he’d grown to love, and the fence line he was surreptitiously checking.  Roy’s time seemed to be divided between his awe of the magnificent scenery, and staring at Rick.

“Roy?”

“Huh?  What  . . . “

“I asked if you were ready to head down.”

“Oh, yeah, sure . . anytime.”

“Well, if we’re going to get into town anytime soon, then we’d better get going.  I told Luke that we’d meet him about 8:00.  That okay with you?”

“Sure, whatever you say.”

“You still wanna go, don’t you?  I mean, don’t feel obligated if you-”

“No, it’s not that.  I’m looking forward to it.  Just kind of hard to leave this place, I’ve been enjoying the view up here.”

“It’s something, isn’t it?” 

They sat quietly, staring at the vista before them.  The view was varied, from craggy mounds covered with brown grass, to a deep canyon complete with its silvery ribbon of river running through it.  In the distance, the Cascades rose above the skyline, the highest peaks covered in year-round white.  It was beautiful, a scene that one could stare at for hours.  But the afternoon shadows were lengthening as the sun moved slowly westward, and finally, with almost unspoken mutual consent, they turned as one to ride home. 

“Race you back!”  Rick suddenly shouted, as he kicked his horse into a gallop.

“Not down that hill you won’t!”  Roy hollered back.

Rick simply laughed.

Though they did slow down for the dangerous part, most of the ride had been made at a gallop, with a lot of laughter and good-natured ribbing.  When they finally rode up to the barn and dismounted, Rick realized he’d just enjoyed one of the best days of his life.  Of the ones he could remember, anyway.  It was a good feeling, and he was happy to have made friends with Roy.   It seemed so natural.

They were busily unsaddling and currying their horses, discussing their plans for the evening, when Roy unexpectedly grew silent.  Rick didn’t push, but focused on his chores, even though the sudden change in the other man’s attitude was slightly unnerving.  Just as he measured out the last bit of feed, he heard a brush drop into the tack box, just before the lid snapped shut.

“Race you to the shower!”  Roy called out tauntingly, as he scurried out the barn door.

“What the . . . Hey, that’s cheating!”  Rick hollered in mock anger.  He grumbled for a moment, about guests and their bad manners, before dissolving into laughter. 

Rick didn’t see the woman watching him at the other end of the barn.  If he had, he would’ve wondered at the strange look on her face.

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

Roy sat at the small table, nursing his third beer.  It was tempting to tip his head back, and down it in a gulp.  Forgetting about everything for a little while would be a welcome relief.  But when he picked his glass up, he sipped at the brew instead.  Getting drunk wasn’t going to solve anything.

Across the room, Johnny was engaged in another game of pool, his friend Luke a worthy opponent.  The two men seemed fairly evenly matched, in more than just pool.  In fact, they seemed to have a lot in common.  Or, at least, Luke and Rick did.  Roy wasn’t sure how much Luke would have in common with John Gage.

So far, the evening with Luke had been pleasant.   They’d started out at a local diner where they’d enjoyed a good steak and their first beer.  The dinner conversation had covered everything from pasture rental, to feed bills, to the prices of yearlings in the fall, along with a little town gossip mixed in.  Roy had learned about the librarian’s recent tryst with the local lawyer, the barber’s new baby, and the speculation that Harold had a thing for Bess.  Add in a few facts about the availability of single women, and which ones Luke was sure had an eye for Rick, and Roy figured he was on top of the town’s current events.

After that, they’d walked to the other end of Main Street, stopping at the

Watering Hole.

He would’ve accused the others of pulling his leg, if it hadn’t have been for the neon sign arched over the doorway.   The crowd inside was decent though, typical small-town regulars.  There had only been one brawl so far, and that was after a drunken salesman made a pass at a local cowboy’s wife.  Roy smiled at the smooth way the problem had been handled.  Within minutes, quiet had been restored, the cowboy had free drinks on the table for him and his missus, and the drunken salesman had been escorted to his motel where he was ordered to stay until he sobered up.

“Too bad that doesn’t work at home.”  Roy mumbled to himself.

“What’s that?”  The barmaid asked, as she stopped to clear their table of the empties.

“Oh, nothing.  Just talking to myself.”

“That’s not any fun.  It’s Saturday night, you’re supposed to be enjoying yourself.”

“I think my friends are having enough fun for all of us.”  Roy grinned, as he watched Johnny and Luke arguing over their latest bet.

“Oh, those two.  They’re always good for a laugh.  Nice guys, though.  Which one’s your friend?”

“J . . Rick.  I’m here visiting Bess, and that’s how I know Rick.”

“Oh.  I thought maybe you knew him before he came here.   Nice guy, but a little quiet about his background.  Not that it means anything bad, mind you.  It’s just that I like to know a little more about a man before I get close to him.  Course, some of the girls around here don’t seem to mind.  There’s a couple who’d be pretty happy to have him camping out on their doorsteps, I’ll tell you.”

“Really.”

Roy was grateful that his one-word answer didn’t encourage her to continue.

“Want another one?”

“Sure.”  He agreed, after only a moment’s hesitation.  “Why not?”

“Yeah, that’s right . . .why not?  Like I told you, it is Saturday night.”

He wasn’t unhappy to see the young lady move away.  There were things he needed to work out in his mind, and he couldn’t do that while making conversation with a stranger.  Stranger.  That’s what Johnny was, really.  Or at least he used to be.  Not so, after today.  Roy smiled as he remembered the afternoon ride. 

Even with the treacherous route, he’d enjoyed the beautiful surroundings.  It reminded him of places that he and Johnny had hiked to back home.  Then there had been the talk of the pasture rental, and improving Bess’s holdings.  Roy knew, even without having been told, that this new venture had been Johnny’s idea.  The young man might not be aware of it, but he really hadn’t changed all that much.  He was still headstrong, full of new ideas and innovations. 

The scraping of chair legs caught Roy’s attention, as the pool sharks returned to their table. 

“Who won?”  Roy asked.

“Who else?”  Johnny grinned, as he held up a ten-dollar bill. 

The sound of Johnny’s laughter was like music to his ears, and Roy couldn’t help but join in.   Johnny was happy here.  He was doing something he loved, with people he felt comfortable with, in a place he seemed at home in.  It was a realization that Roy had trouble accepting.

“Here you go.”  The barmaid murmured, as she sat his fourth beer on the table.

Picking up the cool drink, Roy was grudgingly thankful that he’d ordered it.  He didn’t really expect it to help him accept the inevitable.  Then again, at this point, he figured it couldn’t hurt.   Maybe it would help get rid of the knot in the pit of his stomach.

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

Roy leaned back against the bunkhouse door, and watched the proceedings.  Mr. Simms had finally shown up to buy the yearling, an event that Bess had been talking about every evening.  It was interesting, the way the old woman looked forward to the man’s visit.  Roy could tell there was a history here, and though she tried to act tough and unyielding, she actually was quite fond of the customer. 

It had also been made fairly clear, that neither she nor Johnny had much time for the man’s children.  It took less than five minutes for Roy to understand why.  Even Joanne would have her hands full with those three. 

Having finally made his decision last night, Roy decided that he would use this time to pack, since he hadn’t told either Bess or Johnny that he’d be leaving first thing in the morning.   Standing here now, he was glad that he hadn’t told them.  It was going to be hard enough to leave, but dragging out the goodbyes on his part wouldn’t help.   He just hoped that he was doing the right thing.

Turning back towards his task, he grinned as he caught sight of Harold, leaning against the corral fence.   The neighbor had stopped by for his regular Sunday visit, only to spend his afternoon watching the tug-o-war between Bess and Simms.  It wasn’t like there was anything to even discuss.  The price had already been agreed upon, the sale more or less completed.  But like oil and water, the two hardheaded business owners were quarrelling about everything from the type of feed the yearling should have, to the shape of his hooves.  

Back in the bunkhouse, Roy was just tucking the last shirt into his bag when he heard the shouting.  Hurrying to the door, he stopped for a moment to watch the flurry of activity.  The adults seemed to be searching for something, while near the barn door, two children were laughing hysterically.  Johnny had stopped to stand in front of them, his expression one of distinct displeasure.  Unaware that he’d even started to run, Roy suddenly found himself standing next to the group.

“What’s going on?”

“Kid says that her brother is missing.  But this one says he went for a ride.”

Johnny was already walking into the barn, his steps rapid but deliberate.  Roy had to hurry to keep up, and he was suddenly reminded of his partner at a rescue scene.  Johnny had a plan in mind, and he was already putting it into action.  It didn’t take long for Roy to realize what that plan was.  

Saddles and bridles were swiftly gathered and put to use, and within minutes the two men were mounted.  Stopping near the fence, Johnny leaned down to talk with Bess before they left.

“Lacy is missing.”  He muttered.

“It figures.  The little snot.  I saw him watchin’ her earlier, I should’ve kept a closer eye.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll find him.   But, you might keep looking around here too, just in case he didn’t make it too far.”

“Will do.”  Bess assured.

Then Johnny turned in his saddle, studying Roy.

“You ready?”

“Yeah.”  

Roy wasn’t overly comfortable on horseback, but given the area they were in, and Johnny’s basic instincts, he knew this was their best course of action.  Without a word, they walked their horses through the pasture gate then urged them to a trot. 

They could still hear Harold and Mr. Simms calling for the boy, as they searched the pastures close to the house, but their voices died away as Johnny led the way across a dry gulch and then another pasture.  Pulling up at the other end of the large meadow, Johnny rubbed his forehead for a minute, as if trying to decide. 

“Roy, let’s split up.  You head east.  There’s another meadow on the other side of this knoll, and a stream that’s still running shallow.  If you don’t see anything, meet me at the base of the bluff.   Shouldn’t take you too long.   I’ll check out the western edge of the ranch, and if we still haven’t found him, we’ll go up.  I don’t think he’ll try that route, but you never know.”

“Sounds good.”

Urging his horse forward, Roy glanced over his shoulder only to see Johnny’s back as he galloped away.  Clearly, the younger man was upset, but it was more than simple worry over a lost boy.  Roy had a feeling it was something much deeper, something that had been evident when the children first arrived.  He wondered if this had anything to do with their last rescue, all those months ago.  Could that have influenced Johnny’s natural response?  Was that why Bess commented that he didn’t seem to enjoy children?   That in itself should’ve raised a red flag for Roy.  Johnny had always enjoyed kids, or at least, other people’s kids.  In fact, his partner had become a perfect surrogate uncle to his own two, so this attitude seemed very out of character. 

There was plenty of time to analyze the situation as he rode down the dirt road, around the knoll, and along the edge of a large meadow.  He called out repeatedly, but the only thing that answered was a crow high in a pine tree.   Turning to skirt the other side of the large field, Roy quickly made his way back to the edge of the knoll then kicked his horse into an easy lope. 

There was no one in sight when he reached the base of the bluff, and though he yelled ‘Rick’ several times, there was no answer.  Unsure of what to do, Roy turned his mount in a nervous circle.  Go back?  Stay here?  Head up the narrow roadway?  He stopped his horse for a minute, and stroked the mare’s neck.  She was a steady animal, and hadn’t given him any reason to fear her.  Still, riding wasn’t Roy’s favorite pastime, and sometimes he found that he had to force himself to stay calm while mounted on one of the animals.  It had been hard enough to attempt the incline when Johnny was with him yesterday, he wasn’t sure he was up to the ride alone.

“Well, girl, what do you think?” 

He would’ve laughed at himself, if the situation hadn’t seemed so dire.  Talking to a horse.  He had a sudden flashback to Johnny back at the station, making some comment about an old TV show. 

“Well, that was a mule wasn’t it?”  He patted the horse again.  “Wish you were a mule.  Maybe I’d feel better about doing this.”

Not giving himself any time to think about his decision, Roy suddenly urged the mare towards the rocky incline.  He couldn’t explain why Johnny would’ve went on ahead, after planning to meet, but something told him that’s exactly what had happened.  That Johnny and the boy were up there.  Instinct, intuition . . .he didn’t know what it was . . .he just knew that was where he needed to go.

Roy took it slow, grateful that the mare was comfortable with the ascent, even if he wasn’t.   Already the ledge had narrowed, while the distance to the bottom of the chasm had lengthened.  He looked down once then turned his attention to the path ahead.  That, and slowing down his ragged breathing. 

It was his horse that responded to the sound first.  Her ears pricked up, and she almost shied, but Roy managed to steady her immediately. Sitting tall in the saddle, he strained to see up the trail, but it wasn’t until they rounded the next corner, that he spied Johnny’s horse standing alongside a little dappled mare.   Suddenly undaunted by the terrain, Roy pushed his horse forward, and nearly jumped off her when they reached the gelding’s side.  With one hand on the horse’s neck, he turned in every direction, searching for some sign of his friend’s whereabouts.  

“Johnny!   Johnny where are you?” 

For the first time, Roy couldn’t force himself to change the name to Rick.  This was Johnny he was looking for, and the overwhelming fear for his safety kept Roy from referring to him any other way.  He’d have to deal with those issues later.  But those thoughts were fleeting as he rushed to the edge of the cut, and almost slipped over the side when the ground started to give way.  Scrambling back, Roy heard a faint but familiar voice below.  He didn’t waste any time before scooting closer to peer over the edge.

“Johnny?”

“Yeah . . . Roy . .  we’re down here.” 

He started to stretch farther out, in an effort to see where the voice was coming from, but stopped when the loose ground shifted again.

“Don’t get too close!”

“Is the boy all right?”

There was a brief pause before Johnny answered.

“He has a broken arm, and a concussion.  We need to get him out of here!”

The sound of rocks and dirt sliding made Roy jerk forward.

“Johnny!”

“Get the rope from my horse!   Tie one end to the saddle, and drop the other end down to me.  Hurry, Roy!”

Racing to untie the length of rope from Johnny’s saddle, Roy fastened one end to the pommel, and was back at the edge in seconds.

“I’ve got it!  I can’t see from here, where are you?”

“The boulder, Roy, just below the boulder . . . ’bout twenty feet down.”

Even from where he was kneeling at the edge, Roy was able to see the large rock.  What he couldn’t see was Johnny.  But he trusted his partner, and years of rescues performed together gave him the instinct or maybe faith, to do what Johnny asked.

“Here it comes!”

Stretching back his right arm, Roy flung the rope out away from the bank.  It spiraled into the air then fell straight down, hitting the target dead-on.  He was grateful to see that the end seemed to drape down over the boulder, but had no idea if it was far enough down to do his friend any good.

“Johnny?  Did you get it?”

“Yeah.  Good throw, partner.”

For a split second, Roy froze at the words, wondering if he’d heard right.

“You okay?”

“I . . . I’m banged up a little, nothin’ serious.”

There was a pause, and Roy heard several low coughs, but there was still movement at the end of the rope.  He wondered what exactly was going on down below.

“Johnny . . . what can I do to help?”

“I’m trying to . .  okay . . got it.  The rope’s around him, Roy.  Wait . . hang on.”

There was another pause, and then the rope grew taught.

“We’re slipping . . . Roy!    Get the horse . .  Roy, hurry!”

Up and running before Johnny’s plea could be repeated, Roy grabbed the reins and began to back the gelding up the slope.  It was difficult to get a good taut line, as there was only a narrow area to work in, but the seasoned rescue man did his best.  Keeping the animal moving steadily back, he watched the line, before calling down again.

“Johnny . . .you okay?”

“Keep going!”

Roy kept the horse moving backwards until he ran out of room then dropped the reins.  Having seen the horse in action yesterday, he knew that Johnny’s well-trained mount would ground-tie.  Running back to the edge, he was surprised to see his friend staring up at him.  Barely eight feet below the ledge, Johnny was hanging onto the end of the rope, while balancing the boy above him.  His feet were struggling for purchase, as the loose soil and rocks continued to shift and slide below him.

“Hang on.  I’m going to pull you the rest of the way.”

No response came from below, but Roy didn’t hesitate.  Grabbing hold of the rope, he began to pull it up, hand over hand, keeping the movement steady but slow.  He didn’t stop until he could see the top of the boy’s head just below his reach.  Only then the Roy drop the rope, before kneeling down on top of the coil.  Putting as much weight as he could on the end, he reached down to grasp the boy around the chest.

“Careful for his arm.”  

“Right.”

Roy pulled the boy upwards, as Johnny pushed from below, and then he was back on the roadway.   A cursory glance told Roy that the kid would be all right for a minute.  Not taking time to untie the rope from around the boy’s waist, Roy pointed towards the horses.

“Sit right back there, son.  I’m going to help Johnny up, then we’ll look at that arm.”

The boy didn’t answer, but scooted backwards on his rump, while still clutching his arm close to his chest.

Leaning back over the edge, Roy could see that Johnny was doing his best to scramble up the slope himself.   Reaching down, he snagged his friend’s left arm and started to pull him up, but the answering cry of pain made him freeze in surprise.  There was little chance to ask questions, or do any visual assessing of his friend’s injuries.  Every second counted, as his arms grew weak from the effort.  With one final burst of energy, Roy let go of Johnny’s arm and reached further down to grab hold of his belt.  Only then did he finally see his friend’s back.  Just below the shoulder, where the jacket and shirt had been ripped through, there was evidence of a deep gouge in the flesh.   Roy realized that he hadn’t noticed the blood due to the dark color of Johnny’s jacket, but it was obvious from this position to see that the man was bleeding profusely.  Wasting no more time and panting with the effort, he hoisted his friend up and over the edge. 

The two men lay in a heap on the ground for only a moment then Roy was up and moving.  In seconds he had removed his own shirt and undershirt.  Quickly folding the white cotton into a thick pad, he placed it over the gaping wound on Johnny’s back.  While holding it in place with his left hand, he hurriedly undid his belt and pulled it off, quickly angling it across Johnny’s shoulders and neck, before fastening it across his chest.  Roy knew he’d done his best to make as much of a pressure bandage as possible, but within minutes the t-shirt was soaked red with blood.   As he slipped his flannel shirt back on, Roy looked around anxiously, trying to come up with something else to stem the flow.  There was nothing.   During all this time, Johnny had remained silent, though it seemed as if he were looking for something, or someone.

“He’s right behind me, Roy assured him quietly.”

“O . . . okay?”  Came the faint question.

“Seems to be.  Haven’t checked yet.”

“Go!  Check . . .  You know . . .rules.  Victim first.”

“Yeah, I know the rules.  But triage policy makes you the first victim.  We have to get this bleeding under control.”

“’m okay, Roy.  Please . . . check him . . .”

“I will, I will.”

While continuing to apply pressure, Roy turned to visually check the boy.  Still sitting where he’d been left, the boy looked pale but alert.  A thin line of blood trickled down the side of his face, and numerous cuts and abrasions were visible on his face and arms.  But the most obvious injury was his right arm, which was cradled protectively against his chest.  Roy knew that he needed to get both of them down the hill, fast.   He turned back to Johnny, just in time to see his eyes roll back.

“Stay with me, Johnny.  John!” 

Roy shook his friend once, with no response, before gently laying him the rest of the way to the ground.  Careful to turn him on his side, Roy looked at him for a moment before moving to the boy.  Quickly checking the child over, he was satisfied that the boy’s pupils were reactive, and his pulse strong and steady.  Using the boy’s jacket as a crude sling, Roy immobilized the arm as much as he was able then went back to Johnny.  After calling to him several times, Roy was relieved to see his partner’s eyelids flutter.   Again, working quickly, he checked the t-shirt bandage, worried when he saw that the bleeding hadn’t lessened.  Roy pressed the bandage back in place, holding it firmly as he contemplated what should be done next.

“Johnny!  Can you hear me?”

There was a mere flickering of eyelids, but nothing more.  Roy looked around, his gaze resting on the boy who was staring at them intently.

“Why do you keep calling him Johnny?”

Roy stared back at the child, uncertain as to how he should answer.

“’cause that’s my name.”

Looking down, Roy was surprised to see dark brown eyes staring up at him.

“But Bess calls you Rick.”  The boy persisted.

Johnny’s eyes narrowed, but there was a faint smile on his face at Roy’s answer.

“That’s his middle name.”

“Oh.”  The boy answered, apparently satisfied with the simple answer.

Roy looked back at Johnny and made his decision.  Rising, he went straight to the horses and carefully turned them around, ready to descend the steep grade.  Then he went back to Jeremy, gently helping the boy to his feet.  As they started towards the mare, a quiet voice stopped them.

“Put him on . .  my horse.   Will do better . . . two riders.”

Roy marveled at the way Johnny seemed to read his mind.  It was a familiarity born from years of working together.  So many rescues, their judgment dependent on each other how they handled each situation . . .he shouldn’t have been surprised.  Something told him this was a good sign, that as partners they were still in sync.  Although Roy wanted to examine this line of thinking further, right now he was responsible for the care of two victims, and he knew that every minute was precious.  So he nodded once towards his partner, then walked the boy a few steps further to help him up on the gelding.

“Hold on tight.  I’m going to help Johnny, then we’ll head down.”

With that simple assurance Roy turned back to his friend, and carefully grasping Johnny’s good arm slowly helped him to stand.   Johnny wobbled slightly, his stance somewhat slumped as he struggled to get his bearings. 

“Let’s take it slow.”

“Yeah . . . okay.” 

With slow, uneven steps, they finally moved towards the mare.  It took several tries before Johnny managed to get his foot in the stirrup, and Roy had to help boost him into the saddle.  Once there, he bent forward, struggling to catch his breath.

Roy waited and watched as Johnny finally reached for and held the pommel.  Only then did he gather the leather reins and hand them up to his friend.  Putting his hand on Johnny’s knee, he studied his friend.  Johnny was pale and barely holding himself in the saddle.

“Think you can do this?”  Roy finally managed to mutter.

Johnny returned Roy’s steady gaze, and though his eyes seemed only half open, their gaze was nonetheless intense.  For the first time since he’d arrived in Oregon, Roy felt the old bonds of friendship, exchanged in that one glance.

“Let’s get moving.”

Roy gently squeezed his partner’s knee.  He wasn’t sure if it was for reassurance or simply a grateful impulse, but either way, it brought a faint smile to Johnny’s face.  Hurrying back to Jeremy, Roy quickly mounted and urged his horse to follow Johnny down the hill.

The ride back to the ranch seemed to take forever.  The horses walked sedately, even though Roy longed, for the first time in his life, to kick them into a gallop.  When they’d first reached level ground, they had tried a slow trot, but Jeremy’s moan of pain brought them back to a walk. 

The first leg of the journey had been made in silence, as the horses carefully picked their way down the steep cut.  But when they were on even ground again, Jeremy started to talk.   It was clear that the boy had been scared, but Roy had hunch that the kid was a firecracker.   After ten minutes of false bravado, including a very long-winded sentence describing his exciting venture at the edge of the cliff, Roy was sure of it.

They only stopped once.  The afternoon sun was relentless, unseasonably warm for a fall day, and Roy could feel the sweat pooling beneath his flannel shirt.   He knew that Johnny was barely hanging on as it was, but also knew that he couldn’t risk adding dehydration to his friend’s litany of troubles. 

“Johnny.   John!”

When there was no response, Roy kneed his mount closer, and reached across to grab hold of the mare’s reins.  It only took a gentle tug to make her stop, and finally Johnny raised his head minutely.

”What . . .”

“Just stopping for a minute.  Here, take a drink.” 

Roy had uncorked his canteen, knowing it was easier to do that than for Johnny to manage his own.  Tipping his head back, Johnny took several sips before handing it back.

“That enough?”

“Yeah . . . not feelin’ too good . . . sick.”

Roy nodded, knowing how nauseated a person could feel when suffering from a concussion.  After giving Jeremy a drink, he took a swig himself before closing the canteen and hanging it back on the pommel.  John had already started moving again, and Roy urged his mount to catch up.

The horses were side by side now, and though Johnny wasn’t talking, Roy could easily tell that his friend was losing ground.   The makeshift bandage was soaked, and red streaks ran down Johnny’s side.  Roy knew that they needed to get the bleeding stopped, but he had nothing to work with.   If he left John here, riding back to the ranch for help, he’d be losing precious time . . . time his friend didn’t have.  The urgency grew, and Roy felt the knot in his stomach moving up into his throat.  There was no good decision to be made here, just a choice between the lesser of two evils.

“’m okay, Roy.  Just gotta keep goin’.”

Startled to find that Johnny had been watching him, Roy stared back at him as the horses plodded on. 

“No you’re not.  But I don’t know what to do, other than to keep going.”

“Not much farther . . . we’ll make it.”

Johnny’s head dropped back towards his chest, and Roy felt a clutching in his own chest.

He’d been right, though.  It was barely ten minutes later that they caught site of the pasture fence, and almost immediately there were signs that Bess and Harold had been watching for them.  Mr. Simms was driving his white crew-cab close to the large gate, while Harold was pushing it open. 

“Hang on, Johnny.  We’re almost there.”

“Yeah . . .”

“Dad saw us.  Dad!”

Roy held the boy closer as he began to squirm in earnest, but he didn’t have to tell the boy to settle down.  After the first movements, the pain must have reminded him, because he suddenly moaned louder.   Roy wondered briefly if the moan was truly sincere, or just an attempt to get his father’s attention.

As the horses finally moved through the gate and stopped in front of the truck, Harold and Simms stepped up to help the injured.  Once more Roy slipped into professional paramedic mode.

“Wait Harold, don’t let Johnny get down ’til I get there.   Mr. Simms, you can take the boy but watch his arm.   I think he has a slight concussion, too, so take it slow.”

“Okay, I’ve got him.”

Roy held onto the boy until his father had him in his arms, fully aware that Harold was alternately staring at him, then Johnny.  It was obvious that the man was trying to understand just what all had taken place in the last couple hours. 

As soon as the boy was safely off the horse, Roy quickly dismounted and hurried to help Harold.  The two men looked up with concern as Johnny slumped further over the gelding’s neck.

“Johnny.  Can you swing your leg over this way?”

“Huh?”  His head came up a bit, and tired brown eyes looked around, as if surprised to be in familiar surroundings.

“We need your help, John.  Swing your leg over, so you can slide off this side.”

Roy’s voice was commanding yet gentle, and Johnny responded.

”’kay.”

With slow, deliberate movements, Johnny managed to turn his body, while bringing his right leg over the back of the horse.  It put him in position to slide down off the gelding, except that he had most of his weight on his left leg but didn’t have his left boot out of the stirrup.  For one awful moment, Roy was afraid that he was going to fall, but at the last moment, Harold managed to pull the stirrup free.  With little strength left, Johnny slid soundlessly towards the ground, caught only by his partner’s strong arms.

“I’ve got ya, Junior.”

The familiar nickname, though rarely used, brought the barest hint of a grin to Johnny’s face.  Without answering, he merely lifted his good hand to grasp Roy’s forearm.

“Hurts . . .”

“I know it does.  But we’ll have you fixed up in no time.”

Roy looked to Harold for confirmation that he wasn’t lying to his friend, and was rewarded immediately.

“That’s right, young man.  We’ve got the truck ready, all we need to do is get you on your feet so we can get going.”

Though Johnny sighed, as if the thought of moving again was too much to ask, Harold and Roy didn’t wait for an answer.  

“You get his right arm, Harold.”

“All right.  Ready?”

“Yeah, but go slow.”

“Will do.”

Moving carefully, the two men managed to pull Johnny back to his feet.  Then the trio slowly made their way towards the open door. 

“Let’s put him in the backseat.”  Harold suggested.  “The bed would be too rough a ride.”

“Sounds good.”

Roy had wondered where Bess had gone off to, but just as they eased Johnny into the back of the rig, she met them at the truck.  Quickly unloading the large hamper she had lugged from the house, several blankets and pillows, along with some towels were quickly dispensed.   The last items were two metal coffee cans, with hand towels and wet washcloths tucked inside.  Roy looked approvingly at everything she’d brought.   Bess simply nodded at him.

“You can’t live on a ranch for as many years as I have without dealing with a few emergencies, young man.”

Harold waited as Simms settled himself in the front seat next to his boy, then shut the front door, and headed around to the driver’s side.   In the back, Roy helped Johnny lay on his side, then with one of Bess’s folded towels, put pressure on the bleeding wound.  As Harold started the engine, Bess called out to them.

“I’ll call Dr. Timmons and tell him you’re on the way.”

With a wave of his hand in reply, Harold put the pickup in gear, and started towards the main road. 

In the backseat, Roy had his work cut out for him.  Even though he was now able to put direct pressure on the wound, the bleeding was still profuse, and Johnny was slipping into shock.  There was little room to move in the confined space, but Roy did his best to get Johnny’s feet elevated, propping them precariously on the armrest.

“Anything we can do?”  Harold asked from the front.

“Get us there fast.”  Answered Roy, worriedly.

“I’ll do my best, son.”

“He’ll do it . . Roy.  Harold is . . one of . . .best.   Just like . . Cap.”

“That’s quite a compliment.”

“Yeah . . is.”   Johnny’s voice was faint, his eyes closed now as Roy kept a firm hold with one hand on his shoulder, the other pressing against his back.

“Is he-“

“Don’t talk, Johnny.  Just rest.”

“Need to  . . know . . . he okay?   Cap? . . . everybody . . okay?”

“Yeah, John, they’re all right.  Just been worried about you.”

“Sorry . . . don’t know . . . where-”

“Hey, we’ll talk about it later, okay?”

”Yeah . . . later.”

Harold kept his focus on the road, but Roy knew he was listening to the quiet conversation behind him.  Not that he minded, he just wondered what the older man might be thinking.

Johnny hadn’t moved since they left the ranch, his muscles tense as he tried to hold himself on the narrow seat.  Roy suspected that he was also trying to fight the pain, but other than the one time he’d said it hurt, he’d uttered no other complaint.  

Roy knew, only too well, the complications they might be facing.  Not only did Johnny have a serious wound, and now a substantial loss of blood, but also his body would be fighting without the benefit of his spleen.  On top of that, he probably sustained a concussion when he fell.   As usual, John Gage didn’t do anything halfway.  A mental shake was all Roy could do to stop his current line of thinking. 

“We’re on the main road, now.  Hang in there.”

“Yeah . . . still a . . . long way.”

“I know, but Harold’s making good time.”

The older man nodded once, and Roy knew his previous hunch was right.  For his part, Mr. Simms was keeping up a steady stream of quiet chatter with his son. 

Roy did his best to keep the bleeding under control, but things were getting worse, and even from his cramped position kneeling on the floor, he knew that Johnny was fading in and out of consciousness.  It was a helpless feeling, one that Roy wasn’t used to.  He longed to be able to pick up the bio-phone and call Dr. Brackett, to start and IV, or even to monitor BP.  It was more than difficult to be relegated to watching his friend die right before his eyes.

“Quit it.”  Roy muttered.

Unaware that he’d spoken his thoughts out loud, he found questioning brown eyes gazing up at him.   Roy almost held his breath as he questioned.

“John?  What’s wrong?”

“You  . . all right?”

”Me?  Yeah, of course.  I’m fine.”

“Look scared . . . said quit . . .what’s up . . .”

Roy was at a loss, surprised that he’d let his control slip, while happy that Johnny was aware enough to notice.

“Hey, partner, I’m fine.  Just worried about you, that’s all.  Guess I was talking to myself.”

“Told ya . . ‘m okay.  Don’t  . . .worry.”

“Yeah, you’re right.  All right, no more worrying.”

He squeezed his friend’s good arm, while looking out the window to study the terrain.  Roy had only been into town once, so the landmarks didn’t look familiar, but he could see that Harold was not wasting any time on watching the speed limits.  It was no surprise when he saw a cruiser coming towards them, suddenly turn around and catch up to them.    What did surprise him was seeing the patrol car suddenly speed up and pass them while the deputy inside merely raised a hand in salute. 

“What the-”

“It’s okay.  That’s my nephew, my sister’s boy, Robert.  He’s a deputy for the county.  I’ve gotta hunch that Bess called ahead and had him watching for us.  He’ll make sure we get there in good time.”

Roy knew Harold wouldn’t see his nod of appreciation, but he couldn’t find his voice at the moment.  There were so many people working to help them, all he could do right now was be silently grateful, and pray that it would be enough.  Glancing down at Johnny, he could see that his friend had faded out again. 

It was a quiet, but tense group, and the forty-five minute drive seemed to take forever.  Roy didn’t know when he’d ever felt so relieved, as when Harold pointed out the trees at the edge of town.  Driving down Main Street, Roy noted the familiar places, flashing back to the evening he’d shared with Johnny just hours before.  Just as quickly, they’d passed through town and were turning off the main route onto a quieter side road.  They passed several older houses before Harold muttered a quiet ‘finally’ as they turned into a narrow lane.  

Stately shade trees sheltered the clinic from the main road, so Roy found that he was surprised when he finally saw the layout before him.  Though the front of the building was an old white farmhouse, complete with shade trees lining the front walk, a newer wing had been added to the back.  Bricked walls and a wide double door for an entrance, clean and fairly modern, the medical clinic seemed almost out of place in this country setting. 

Harold followed his nephew into the graveled parking lot then stopped as close as possible to the door.  Immediately, he jumped out to help with the injured, waving at the deputy who was hurrying over to the group.  Before he’d even rounded the pickup, a doctor and nurse appeared with a gurney, and a wheelchair.   It only took a moment to get young Jeremy settled in the wheelchair then Mr. Simms followed the nurse and his son into the clinic.  It took a bit longer to get a lethargic Johnny up off the seat and out of the pickup, and he needed the help of all four men to get onto the gurney.  When they finally wheeled it through the entrance and into a large examination room, Roy found himself almost weak with relief.

Roy knew, from Bess’s description, that this was Dr. Timmons.  The man was probably in his late 60’s, but you wouldn’t have thought so by the way he took charge of the situation.

“Millie, get Tim on the phone and see if he can get over here.  I’m going to need some help getting x-rays.”

“Yes, sir.”  Came a voice from the hallway.

“Robert, why don’t you lend a hand since you’re here.”

“Sure thing, Doc.  Whadya need?”

“Go see if Susan needs any help with that boy while I get started in here.”

“Looks like you’ll need my help in here, first.”

“No, you go on.  From what Bess tells me, we have a real live paramedic on hand.  Isn’t that right, son?”

Roy could only nod in affirmation as the doctor looked at him, surprised at how knowledgeable this group seemed.

“A paramedic?  Hey, I’d like to talk to you later, if you have time.”  Robert suggested, as he headed for the door.

“Sure.”  Was all that Roy could manage, while keeping his focus on Johnny.

Still balanced on his side, Johnny was clenching his good hand, clearly an effort to deal with the pain.  Roy stepped closer, grasping his friend’s hand for a moment, as the doctor moved to the other side of the table.

“Well, Rick, it looks like you’ve had a little trouble today.  Can you tell me what happened?”

“Yeah, Doc.”  Johnny replied weakly.  “I finally remembered who I am.”

Of all the answers Dr. Timmons might’ve expected, that was obviously the last one on his list.  Momentarily flustered, he looked up at Roy and received a silent nod of confirmation.

“Well, well, well.  How’d you do that?   Fall on your head or something?”  The doctor teased quietly.

“Yeah . . . somthin’ like that.” 

While visually checking his patient, the doctor had been busy readying supplies, and seemed to instantly include Roy in his treatment plan.    He handed the paramedic a BP cuff almost immediately then personally started an IV on his patient.

“Well, we’ll talk about that in a few minutes, but first we’re going to take a look at this shoulder.  And it looks like I’ll be your doctor and your nurse today, young man.”  Dr. Timmons, murmured, as he deftly inserted a needle.  “Seems like you and your young friend are going to tax our small-town medical facility.”

“S . . .sorry . . .”

“Think nothing of it.  Good for us to be tested every once in awhile.  Just as long as you do what you’re told.”

Dr. Timmons winked at Roy, assuring the paramedic that he was doing his best to keep the situation under control.  Yet the doctor seemed to be waiting expectantly for the information Roy was obtaining.   He didn’t have to wait long.

“BP’s 100 over 60.  Pulse is 110, respirations 28.”

“Did he lose consciousness?”

”Yeah, but I don’t know how long.  He was already awake and moving when I found them.”

“Wasn’t . . . long.”  Mumbled Johnny from his place between them.

”Good.  Well, we’ll still take some pictures just to be sure.  You’re probably aware of the drill, right?”

“Yeah . . . no meds . . . “

“That’s right.  But before we start with that, I’m going to get this shoulder numbed up so I can do a little sewing.  I think you’ve lost enough blood for one day.”

Roy nodded mutely, grateful that the doctor was not only speaking to Johnny calmly, but more importantly, that he was obviously a very competent physician.  For the next few minutes, the older man busied himself preparing the suture tray, and answering several questions as his nurse hurried in and out.  There was a brief interruption when another man joined the group, and Roy was quickly introduced to Tim, a retired radiologist who volunteered his assistance at the clinic whenever needed. 

All the while, Johnny lay quietly between them, mumbling occasional answers to their questions.  Roy was grateful to see a little color returning to his friend’s face as the IV, and later a pint of blood started to take affect, but clearly he was in a lot of pain.  The fact that he remained so still was a silent testament to that fact.  Roy watched closely as Dr. Timmons worked, impressed with the ability this small town doctor exhibited. 

“Well, that’s looking better.”  The doctor noted, as the bleeding slowly came to a stop.  “Now that we’re getting this shoulder taken care of, suppose you tell me what happened up there.”

“Not much to tell.”  Johnny mumbled.  “Kid took off . . . we followed him.  Roy and I split up . . . I found the boy first.  He’d already fallen over the edge . . before I got to him.  Got too close . . . must’ve fell too.  Next thing I remember . . . Roy was hollering my name  . .  then he was helping me over the edge . . .

“And you knew who he was?”  The doctor prompted, as Johnny’s voice dropped off.

“Yeah . . . partner.”

Johnny’s eyes slid closed, and Roy wasn’t all together sure that it was from the injuries received that afternoon.   He had a hunch that his friend was simply telling them that he didn’t want to talk about it anymore.  For his part, the doctor didn’t pry, but grew quiet himself, as he went about his work.

As for Roy, he simply laid a hand on Johnny’s good shoulder, and squeezed it reassuringly.

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

Johnny moved hesitantly on the narrow bed, the pain in his shoulder instantly making itself known and halting any progress he’d made in finding a better position.  For the first time since they’d reached the clinic, he found himself alone. 

The small room was antiseptic white, the furnishings sparse but clean.  He was grateful that the nurse had thought to pull the blinds down on the window, but the afternoon sun still filtered through.  Though normally he would appreciate the cheery light, today it simply made his head hurt worse.   Of course, there were many reasons his head seemed to be pounding, and not all of them came from the bump Dr. Timmons had located on his skull.

The whole afternoon seemed like some kind of bad dream, yet he remembered everything with distinct clarity.  Maybe that was what bothered him the most, the fact that everything was so clear now, from the time Simms’ arrived at the ranch, through the sale of the horse, the boy taking off, to the subsequent search with Roy. 

Roy. 

He had a vivid picture of the first time he looked up into Roy’s worried face, peering over the ledge.  It was the first time that he recognized his partner, that part was very clear.  What wasn’t clear was how or why he’d forgotten him in the first place.   Why was he in Oregon living on the ranch with Bess?  How did he get here?   The last thing he remembered with any certainty was one awful night at Rampart Emergency.   After that, there was a jumble of shady memories until the time Harold and Bess settled him into the bunkhouse that first night on the place.

Rubbing his forehead absently, Johnny tried to make sense of the situation.  But there were too many questions, and too few answers.  And his head hurt.  Trying once more to get comfortable, he was rewarded with another searing pain in his shoulder.

“Local must be wearing off.”  He muttered tiredly.

Closing his eyes against the thin light filtering through the shades, John Gage tried to shut out the multitude of questions that just wouldn’t be answered.

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

“So, what do you think, Doctor?”

Roy watched as Dr. Timmons closed the large book, and slipped it back into its place in the bookshelf.  The man didn’t answer until he’d returned to the chair behind his desk, and then his answer was noncommittal.

“I’m not sure.”

“You’re not sure what caused the amnesia, or your not sure what cured it?”  Roy persisted.

“Neither, I guess.”

Almost squirming on his chair in frustration, Roy did his best to calm down.  In fact, he became very quiet as he tried to find the right questions to ask the doctor.

For his part, Dr. Timmons did his best to be patient and understanding.  After a few minutes of tense silence, he sighed loudly and stood up.  Walking slowly to a small cart in the corner of his office, he poured two mugs full of coffee then brought them back to his desk.

“Here, try this.  Maybe it’ll calm your nerves.”

Roy looked up at the doctor’s kind features, and suddenly felt sorry for letting his frustration get out of hand.  Even if he hadn’t spoken out loud, he had a feeling the good doctor knew he was on the brink of losing control.

“Sorry, Doc.   This whole thing has been so . . . hard.”

“I understand.”

Dr. Timmons made his way back to his wooden swivel chair.

“It’s understandable, you know, after so much time has passed.  You’ve had a very stressful few months, haven’t you?”

“Yes.  We all have.”

“But he’s remembering now, maybe not everything, but the basics.  He knows who he is, who you are and where he belongs.  Some of the other details may come back to him in time, maybe they won’t.  Even though we’ve made huge strides in the medical field, in many ways the mind is still a mystery, even to us doctors.  Whether it was the physical blow he received or the emotional trauma that caused first the loss of memory, and then its return, in the end, does it really matter?   Your friend, as you know him, is back.  That’s all that should matter.”

Roy sat quietly, contemplating everything the doctor had said.  And he was right.  There were so many unanswered questions, but with no firsthand knowledge of the original accident, they would probably never know just what had happened to take Johnny away from them.  And now, for whatever reason, the fall down the hill, or the anguish of trying to save the boy . . .  something clicked in Johnny’s mind and brought everything back.

Setting his cup on the doctor’s desk, Roy finally dropped his face in his hands and sighed deeply.

“You’re right, Doc, you’re right.  It doesn’t really matter.   I’m just damn glad he’s back.”

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

Several hours had passed when Roy quietly pushed the door open to Johnny’s room.  His friend was motionless on the small bed near the window, one arm tucked safely inside a white sling, the other crooked over his eyes.  IV tubing snaked from his hand to a bottle suspended above him, while cuts and bruises provided some color against the stark white of the blanket covering him. 

Roy stared for only a moment before stepping into the room to pick up a small wooden chair, and noiselessly set it next to the bed.  It was only after he sat down, that Johnny stirred.  When the dark eyes finally focused on him, Roy greeted his friend quietly.

“How are you doing?”

“I’m okay.  But looks like I’m stuck with this thing for awhile,” he grumbled, as he waved his IV-laden hand towards Roy.  “Didn’t even feel the stick.  Guess you still have the touch, Pally.”

“Looks like you do, too, Junior.”  Roy grinned.  “You sure held it together with that kid up there.”

“Well, at least we didn’t lose another one.”

They fell silent, both lost in thought.  Roy was anxious to bombard his friend with questions, yet he was also nervous about doing so.  Unsure of how much Johnny remembered, he wasn’t ready to be disappointed.   There was a murmur from the bed, but so intent was he on his own worries, he almost missed Johnny’s question.

“What?  What did you say?”  Roy asked, scooting closer.

 

“What . . .what happened?”

“Well, after we got here, the doctor checked the boy out, and his arm is-”

“No.  Not that . . . Doc filled me in on the kid.”  Johnny fiddled with the thin blanket before speaking again.   “I mean . . . what happened.  To me?  How did I get here . . in Oregon?”

Roy hesitated for a moment, gathering his thoughts, trying to determine how to answer.  He finally settled on answering with his own question.

“Do you remember anything?”

Another long pause ensued, ending when Johnny turned to stare out the narrow window.

“I remember Harold picking me up alongside the road . . . only thing before that was . . . ” 

Johnny’s voice faded off, and Roy had a hunch he knew what his friend was remembering.  A rescue he didn’t want to recall  . . . a young child who hadn’t survived.  

With a sigh, Roy scooted his chair even closer, cocking his elbows on his knees and propping his chin onto his folded hands. 

“You came here for some fishing.  Chet and I couldn’t come along, so you drove up by yourself.  Somewhere along the way, you were in a wreck.”

“But you have my Rover.”  Johnny interrupted.

“Yeah, well, the police found it in a ditch. Your wallet was still in the glove box, and they called the fire department early the next morning.  We’ve been looking for you ever since.”

Johnny stared at Roy for a moment before he almost whispered.

“How long ago was that?”

“Five months.”  Roy managed to squeak out.

“You’ve been looking for me for five months?”  Breathed Johnny, in surprise.

Dropping his face into his hands, Roy remembered that morning at the station, when Hank first broke the news.  There followed, in quick succession, bits and pieces of the past months, as he searched for Johnny, never certain if he’d find him alive or dead.  Roy shuddered slightly then froze when he felt a familiar hand grasp his shoulder.    Silently, he reached out with his own right hand to gently grip Johnny’s forearm.  They sat like that for several minutes before Roy finally lifted his head to meet Johnny’s sad gaze. 

“Yeah, but it was worth it.  I found you, didn’t I?”

Johnny flashed a quick smile, his eyes registering relief at the familiar banter.  Then, in an obvious attempt to lighten the mood, he groaned half-heartedly and looked up at Roy with a pleading expression.

“Okay, now that you found me, how about getting me out of this bed and back to the ranch?  You know how I feel about hospitals.”

Roy would’ve laughed out loud, if Johnny hadn’t looked so serious.

“This isn’t a hospital, remember?”

“Close enough.  Besides, Doc’s through with me, anyway.”

“I don’t know about that.”  Roy hesitated. 

He was torn between relief at hearing Johnny’s familiar grumbling about doctors, and his desire to make sure his friend was really all right.  Though the young man seemed to be much better, Roy had also talked to the doctor, and knew that Johnny had suffered more than a slight concussion, not to mention the blood loss and extensive sewing job he’d been a witness to.   Then, of course, there was the matter of the amnesia.  He studied his friend thoughtfully, before finally yielding to the inevitable.

“How about we at least check with the doctor first, Junior?”

“Nah.   He’s fine with it.  I already told him I was just waiting for you to take me home.”

“Uh huh.   I think we’ll check anyway.”  Roy muttered in a no-nonsense tone he usually saved just for his children.

Johnny was pleading again, but Roy wasn’t listening to the words.  He had suddenly realized what Johnny had just said.  Home.  He wanted to go home.  And that, in Johnny’s mind, was still Bess’s ranch.

It was a relief when the door opened only seconds later, revealing Harold and the doctor.  Struggling to push back his sense of foreboding, Roy pointed towards the doctor.

“Okay, Johnny, here’s your chance.”

Roy did his best to get back his teasing tone, but the look on Johnny’s face, and the sudden way that he seemed at a loss for words, truly made Roy grin with delight.

“Chance to do what?”   Harold looked at the two men curiously.

“Go home.”   Johnny mumbled quietly.

It was the doctor’s turn to surprise them all. 

“I think that’ll be all right.  Of course, you’ll need to stay in bed for at least 24 hours, give your body a chance to rest.  You did lose a lot of blood, and I don’t want to re-stitch that shoulder.  But I think Roy can handle the neuro-checks, and I know that Bess will keep a close eye on you, too.  Yes, I think you’ll be fine.”

Johnny didn’t get a chance to complain about staying in bed.  Roy immediately recognized his friend’s impending complaints, and took the opportunity to cut in.

“How about the boy?”

”He’s already giving my nurse a run for her money.”  The doctor chuckled.  “I just finished giving his father a full list of instructions, so they’ll be ready to leave soon.  I believe they’re planning to take you back to the ranch, and make arrangements from there.  But he’s a normal little boy, and children bounce back fast.”

Roy started to agree when he suddenly realized that Johnny was trying to get up.

“Hey, where’re you going?” 

“Home.  I told you, I’m ready to go home.”  Johnny mumbled faintly.

“Well, I don’t think we’re ready to head out the door yet.  Johnny . . .John!”

Grabbing hold of Johnny’s waist, Roy’s grip tightened when he realized that his friend was starting to slide toward the floor.  With an ease borne of years of practice, Roy settled his partner back on the bed.  It took several minutes before Johnny managed to focus on him again.

Harold was standing close by, having moved in to help at the first sign that his young friend was about to fall.  The doctor was already wrapping a BP cuff around his patient’s arm, watching the needle closely. 

“Still a little low, my friend.  You’re going to have to take this slow and easy if you want to go home.”

“Yeah, okay.”  Johnny muttered softly.

It took several minutes for the doctor to take the IV out, but as soon as that was completed, Roy reached down and helped Johnny back to a sitting position.  This time, the injured man took his time, his movements slow and careful.  When he made it to his feet, he swayed slightly before leaning into Roy. 

“You ready?”

“Yeah, let’s go.”

The entourage moved slowly into the hallway and out the side door.  Simms was already by the pickup; his son nestled between two white pillows in the front seat. 

It took several minutes for them to traverse the walkway, and reach the vehicle, and in that short time Roy could tell that Johnny was done in.  Harold opened the door for them then hurried around to the other side.  He was obviously worried for his young friend, but so far, hadn’t said much. 

Roy tried not to focus on what the older man must be feeling.   This had been a traumatic day for everyone involved, and the sooner they could get Johnny settled in bed, the sooner they could all relax and start to sort things out.  He hoped so, for everyone’s sake.

The drive back was quiet.  Harold drove again, while Simms sat in the front seat carefully holding his son in a comfortable position.  In the back seat, Johnny slumped against his door for the first part of the journey.  Halfway to the ranch, he finally gave in to Roy’s quiet urging.  Without a word, he lay down across the back seat, his head supported by a pillow laid close to Roy’s knee.  He still didn’t speak, but Johnny’s faint smile of thanks was enough to show that he appreciated his friend’s help.

When they finally pulled up the lane and into Bess’s yard, it was no surprise to see the woman watching for them from the doorway.  In an instant, she was out of the house and hurrying up to the pickup.  In a flurry of directions and commands, Bess had everything taken care of.  Roy and Harold walked on either side of Johnny as they slowly made their way to the bunkhouse, while Mr. Simms carried his son into the farmhouse.  

At first, Roy was a little surprised that she’d went along with the Simms family, given the type of relationship he’d seen between Bess and Johnny.  But all doubts were erased when he pushed open the door of the bunkhouse.  The old woman must’ve been very busy after he’d called her from the clinic.  

The room was cozy and warm, a fire already burning in the hearth.  The lights were on, and the blankets turned back on Johnny’s bed.  A small wooden table held a crock of soup, along with bread, crackers, and a jug of cold milk.  There were extra blankets laid out, and even a stack of clean bandages nearby.    Evidently, Bess had tried to think of everything.   Walking Johnny to the bed, Roy smiled when his friend started to complain. 

“I don’t really need to be in bed.  The chair over there would be just fine.”

The trio stopped while Roy stared, unflinching, at his friend.  Harold, however, seemed to waver. 

“Maybe it would be all right, for a little while.”

“Uh huh, until he gets a dizzy spell and keels over on the floor.  No way, Johnny.  The doctor said in bed, and in bed is where you’re going.”

“Haven’t changed a bit.”  Johnny grumbled as they steered him over to his bed.

The look on his face was one of relief, though, as he settled himself against the pile of pillows Bess had arranged there.  Roy knew Johnny wasn’t feeling well.  In fact, he suspected that the long ride had made things worse.  The walk in had taken much longer than even he had expected.  He longed to pull out a flashlight and check John’s pupils, or even reach for a BP cuff to monitor vitals.  But with no equipment, and fully aware of the fight he’d have on his hands, Roy settled for getting his friend tucked safely between the covers.  It took several minutes to get boots and jeans off, but Harold and Roy worked well together.  Even Johnny was agreeable, only widening his eyes a bit when they took scissors to one of his white t-shirts, quickly cutting it down the left side so that it would fit around his bandaged shoulder.    

“She didn’t have to do all this.”   Johnny mumbled softly, as his eyes moved about the room.

“Sure she did, son.”  Harold said quietly.  “She cares about you.”

No sooner did they have Johnny settled into bed before there was a knock on the door.   Harold pulled it open, stepping back as Bess bustled in.

“Well, you gave us all quite a scare today, young man.  How are you feeling?”

“Tired.”

“I should expect so.  I talked to the doctor myself, you know, so there’s no sense starting in on your complaining.  There’s soup here, and Roy’s dishing you up some right now.  After that, you’re going to take a nap.  And we won’t be seeing you out of this bed until Tuesday morning, right?”

“Bess-”

“I said Tuesday morning, Rick, and Tuesday morning it is.”

Roy wasn’t surprised at the woman’s attitude, or even at the way Johnny succumbed to it so willingly.  He was surprised, however, at the strange look that flashed across his partner’s face, and the uncharacteristic silence that followed.   He understood though, when his friend finally spoke.

“It’s Johnny.  Bess, my name is Johnny.”

“I know, dear, I know.”

The old woman went over and sat down on the edge of the bed, picking up the young man’s hand, and stroking it gently.  Harold and Roy exchanged a glance then silently left the bunkhouse.  There were sure to be chores waiting, and it suddenly seemed like the perfect time.  

As the two men measured oats, and divided bales of hay, Roy couldn’t help but wonder what kind of conversation was taking place in the bunkhouse.  He knew that Bess was someone very special to Johnny.  Still, though it made him feel guilty, Roy hoped the woman wasn’t so special that Johnny wouldn’t leave her.

Half an hour later, Harold and Roy walked back to the bunkhouse, only to find their two friends leisurely sipping soup, and laughing cheerfully.  Harold grinned at his old friend.

“What’s so funny, woman?”

“Oh, that boy up in my house.  Only been there five minutes, and he already had his dad runnin’ from here to there.  I told ‘em I had to check up on my own boy down here, and so I just left ‘em to their own devices.  Now I’m not sure what I’ll find when I get back.  Hope my house is still standin.’”

Johnny grinned tiredly, something not lost on Bess.

“But I guess I’ll have to risk it.  Good thing it’s only for one night, and then I’ll have my peace and quiet back.”  She chuckled.  “Harold.  You wanna go with me?  Just in case I need moral support?”

“Sure I will, Bess.  Who knows, if they settle down early, we might even get in a hand of gin.”

“Oh, you old coot.  You’re just anxious to win back the money you been losin’ to me lately.  What are you into me for, now?  Is it four or five dollars?”

“Four or five . . .  now Bess, you know I don’t owe you any more than a dollar at most.  You just get that notebook of yours out and re-add those numbers.”

Harold was already by the door, muttering something about old women and senility.   Bess just winked at the two younger men, then stepped over to the bed.

“Night, Johnny.”  She murmured to the young man, patting his leg gently. 

Roy watched Johnny watch Bess, as the older couple left.  He didn’t ask any questions though, just shut the door behind them, and turned out several lights.  Dishing up a bowl of soup for himself, Roy settled into one of the overstuffed chairs and for the first time in hours, truly relaxed.  Johnny was already asleep.

Just as the doctor ordered, and just as he’d done several times in the past, Roy woke Johnny every few hours to ask his name, the date, and where he was.  Each and every time, the young man answered with the same simple line:

“It’s October 28^th, I’m somewhere in Oregon, and my name is John Gage.” 

Part 5