“Ashes to ashes, and dust to dust,” the preacher was saying.
“Oh, Jess,” she whispered, wiping at her eyes again. “I’m so sorry.” She leaned down and put some wild geraniums on the grave. She had found them sprouting up through lingering snow on a hillside behind the boardinghouse, their bright red beauty reminding her there was life after death, and hope in times of darkness. “I did love you, my dear friend.”
How was she going to tell Jake he was really dead? They all knew it was coming, but the actuality of it still hurt. The preacher said a final prayer, and she turned to Evie and wept in her daughter’s arms.
“He’s better off now, Mother. He can finally be with the wife and daughter he lost in the war.”
Several men who had known and liked Jess moved past the grave, stopped and spoke with Miranda.
“Some of the ladies at the church have prepared a meal,” the preacher told the men. “All of you be sure to stop by Evie’s house and have a bite to eat. Jess would have liked you to enjoy a good meal in his honor.”
The men nodded and thanked him. “We’ll stop over,” one of them told him. “We’ll give Mrs. Harkner and her family a few minutes here at the grave.”
Everyone left but Miranda and Evie and Brian. The minister stayed behind to see what he could do to comfort them. Miranda was in tears again, embracing her daughter.
“You mustn’t worry about Father,” Evie was telling her. “He’s strong and he loves you. He’ll make it until he can be free again.” Evie patted Miranda’s shoulder. “And I don’t care how much he is against it. I’m going with you to see him next time. I don’t care what shape he’s in or how terrible that place is. He’s my father, and I love him. I want to tell him so. I want to see him again, touch him again.”
“It will break his heart for you to see him that way,” Miranda wept.
“He just thinks it will. I think he’ll secretly be happy about it, and I want him to meet Brian.” She pulled away. “Besides, I don’t trust those doctors who work at the prisons. I want Brian to look at him. I want Father to meet my new husband, and I want him to see a doctor who knows what he’s talking about.”
“I think she’s right,” Brian spoke up. “I’d like to take a look at him myself, Randy, considering that bad cough you described. Besides, I’d like to meet this infamous father-in-law of mine.”
Miranda managed a meager smile. Brian was a good man, a dedicated doctor. He was fair-skinned, with sandy hair and blue eyes, a sharp contrast to his dark-skinned, dark-haired wife. He was a handsome young man, not really very tall but built solid. He had a crisp smile and a wonderful sense of humor that helped put patients at ease. She was grateful that he was obviously good to Evie, for the girl simply glowed with happiness, except for today. Today they both felt the sorrow of the loss of a good friend. Evie had long ago taken to calling Jess “Uncle Jess,” and Miranda knew her daughter felt a painful loss at his death.
She wiped at her eyes. “We’ll go next week. Jake will be furious at first that I brought the both of you, but he’ll get over it. I long ago stopped getting upset at his temper. He’s all bluff most of the time.” She looked back at the grave. “Jess knew that too.”
The preacher came up and put a hand on Miranda’s shoulder. “Some of the ladies from the church have prepared a meal and are ready to bring it over to Evie’s house as soon as you go back,” he told her. He looked at Brian. “You make sure this woman eats right and takes care of herself, Doctor.”
“Oh, no problem there,” Brian answered. “She’s my most important patient.” He took his mother-in-law’s arm and led her away from the grave and back toward town, noticing someone walking hastily toward them then. A man called out to her.
“Mrs. Harkner! There you are!”
Brian frowned, wondering who this was. Miranda and Evie both continued to be approached at times by curious onlookers or newspaper reporters, asking questions about Jake and about Lloyd. It irritated Brian to no end to have Miranda and Evie both harassed by rude people who kept bringing up painful memories for them. When they had first arrived in Laramie City, they had been followed around almost constantly, but for the past year things had finally died down and they had been pretty much left alone.
“I’m Tom Chadwick, from Cheyenne,” the stranger told them. “I’ve just moved here to start my own newspaper. I, uh, I heard all about you, saw you coming up here today for a burial. I wondered if you could tell me a little bit about the man who died. Did he know Jake Harkner? Did he ride with him once?”