Traveler's Have Tales

“Travelers Have Tales To Tell”

Chapter 1


Anna O'Connor-Brown had become a widow, single mom, and would become homeless without a miracle within a month. The loss of Brett in the stampede just two weeks prior had been the beginning of the end. It was just her and Jesse now. Her beautiful, headstrong eighteen year old son, who was getting ready to go to college in the fall, now trying so hard to fill his father's shoes. There were times lately, she swore she saw a younger version of Brett walk in the room, Jesse looked so much like him. He had his father's dark brown hair, cut short just like Brett's, her emerald green eyes, and a stature all his own. Jesse was just a stone's throw from being a man.
She hadn't told him yet that the lawyer had called to inform her that Brett hadn't paid his life insurance, and the mortgage they had taken out to recoup the destruction of part of the ranch from the spring tornado was coming due at the end of the month. Unfortunately, Anna had no idea that money was so tight or that Brett hadn't taken care of some of the bills. It seemed like just yesterday he was telling her that he had checked the books, and they would have the money for Jesse's tuition in the fall. She just couldn't believe he was gone, and soon their entire world would be gone, too, if she couldn't find a way to raise the money. If only there was some way to go back and fix the errors of the past.
Anna would be the first to admit that there had been mistakes made over the last hundred years of the ranch. Her great-grandfather had lost 280 of the original 1280 acres when he decided to go with sheep instead of cattle and had to sell the land to make up for the loss. Her grandfather lost 300 acres due to a bad gambling problem and would have lost more if it hadn't been for her grandmother. Her father almost lost the rest because he wanted to live above his means, and now she'd lost Brett. This could very well mean the end of the line for the O'Connor-Brown family, which meant no inheritance for Jesse and only stories of her family left to pass on. Anna slumped down at the kitchen table with her coffee cup, notebook, and pen trying to list all of the mementos she could sell, feeling as if she was trying to sell pieces of her soul. The front door slammed, and Anna knew her son was home from school.
“Hiya, Mom.” Jesse tossed his bag and jacket in a chair as he bee-lined for the fridge.
“How was school today, Jess?”
“Aw, Mom, Dad woulda keeled today. We were discussing bovine behavior in Ag Tech, and Mr. Hall tried to tell us that cows will lie down during a tornado. I could almost imagine Dad's face.” Jesse's face and tone slid as he continued, “I still can't believe he's not going to be coming in the door anymore. I just can't believe he's gone.”
The tears teased at the corners of Anna's weary eyes as she nodded her head in agreement. “I can't either, Jess, I can't either. Grab you a snack and sit down for a moment, honey. We need to talk.”
At his mother's tone, Jesse turned to look at his mother. He noticed how tired she looked – the bags under her eyes from all the tears cried and left to cry, their once vibrant green now lackluster and threaded with red, the lines in her once smooth forehead more pronounced, the shock of his father's passing starting to give way to exhaustion. Even her usually bright, flaming red hair, was now hanging limp and lifeless, and he swore he could see some gray. He noticed her clothing seemed to hang on her, and he thought she had lost quite a bit of weight, when she didn't have any to lose in the first place. Jesse grabbed a Dr. Pepper and a bag of chips out of the cabinet and plopped in the chair next to his mother.
“What's up, Mom? Is something else wrong?”
Anna gave Jesse one of those looks that held a sense of foreboding. “How do you feel about moving to the city, son?”
Jesse could tell she was trying to soften some bad news that was about to follow. “Why do you want to do that?”
Anna looked down at the table as she gathered her thoughts and tried to figure out how to sugar-coat the reality.
“Jesse, I talked to the lawyer today, and he told me that Dad hadn't paid his life insurance, and the mortgage is going to come due at the end of the month. Even with my job, I won't make enough to pay the bill, and the funeral pretty much wiped out our savings. What I'm trying to say is,” the tears started to fall down her cheeks, “we're going to lose the ranch.”
Jesse had no response. He had lived in this house his whole life, he helped his dad everyday out here, and they couldn't lose this. It was the last piece he had of his dad. The land, the legacy, and most of all, his dad, would become memories left to fade into the past like the tumbleweeds that rolled across the pastures in the fall never to be seen again.
“Are you sure, Mom? I mean, I can give up college for a year and get a job to help pay off the bills. I can sell my car, and we can fix it can't we, Mom?” Jesse continued to try and come up with solutions.
“Jesse, I've thought about selling everything in the house. I've looked to see what else I could come up with, and I even considered taking a second job, but even if I did all of these things, there still wouldn't be enough to pay the bills. I'm sorry, honey.” Anna reached over and gently squeezed Jesse's hand. “It'll be OK, Jess. We still have each other, and we'll get through this, I promise.”
“I know, Mom, I just need to think about it for a while. I'm going out by the river for a bit. I'll be back in time for dinner.” Jesse took off out the front door and headed for the stable. He did his best thinking when he was riding, and his mare, Serendipity, could use a good run. Horse and rider took off to the south towards the Platte River. Jesse sprawled out on the bank and stared into the sky. He reached for the pocket watch that once belonged to his great-great-grandfather. His fingers traced the Celtic knot design etched into the cover. Jesse found it amazing the watch had still ticked after all this time. Jesse thought as long as the watch ticked, so would the heartbeat of his family line. Jesse found the sound of the watch comforting, and needing solace, held it up to his ear. Tick, tick, tick, then nothing. Jesse tried to wind it and restart the heartbeat. The watch, like his family, had given up. He held the watch tight, as if it were a life-line in the turbulent storm of his life. He looked at the stars again, desperate for an answer. Focusing on the brightest one, hoping someone was listening, he made his case to any there to hear. Jesse closed his eyes, still gripping the silent watch.



Chapter 2


Jesse's eyes snapped open to a dark sky and no horse. He jumped up and pulled his cell phone out of his pocket to call his mom. He opened the phone and noticed he had the “no service” symbol on the screen. “No service? How is there no service? Mom's got to be freaking out by now.” He started walking back toward the house, hoping Serendipity had beat him home. After a bit, Jesse thought he might have gotten lost because the ranch looked funny. He thought it might just be his mind playing tricks on him or the shadows falling differently due to the lack of light. As he got closer though, he realized something was very, very wrong. He continued on the rutted path up to the beginning of the pasture in front of the house they used for training. A man was in the pen, and the horse inside wasn't one of theirs, or so he thought. “What the hell is going on here?” He thought to himself. The man in pen seemed familiar, and as Jesse came closer, he noticed the man's ruddy brown hair sticking out from under his askew derby hat, bushy beard, and his paunch belly. The man wore a long sleeve shirt and his pants were held up by suspenders. In the dim moonlight, Jesse made out the face of a man he'd seen only in tintypes. He could see the man was having a bit of trouble with the mare in the pen. “Hey there, Laddie, ye look a wee bit lost.” The lilted voice broke through Jesse's thoughts.
“I think I am, sir. Do you think I could sleep here tonight and get a fresh start in the morning?” Jesse kept measuring the man.
“Sure, Laddie, but d'ya mind helping me with this here mare. Her name's Seanmhar, but she's been nothing but the devil's arse tonight.”
Jessie couldn't believe he was looking at Serendipity's great-great-grandmother, and he remembered the story of this night. Grandpa Patrick didn't know it, but Seanmhar, not living up to her name meaning “lucky”, had stepped into a cactus patch earlier on and had managed to get a few of the needles stuck in her back left fetlock joint.
“I'd be happy to help, sir. Let me see what I can do.” Jesse walked over and feigned a close inspection, “Well, sir, it appears that your horse has cactus needles stuck in her fetlock.”
“Well, I'll be a leprechaun's cauldron! I see them now! Say, Laddie, if I hold her steady, you think you could pull them out?” Jesse nodded his agreement and very carefully began to pull them from the horse's leg. Seanmhar instantly calmed and once again became her normal self.
“Well, Laddie, let's go see what the Missus has prepared for dinner. Least I can do is feed ye after ye lent a hand pulling the devil outta that horse.”
The two men headed toward the house, and Jesse noticed it wasn't the beautiful house he lived in now, but, instead, was completely constructed of sod. Jesse had seen pictures of these, but that couldn't compare with actually viewing one in the flesh, so to speak. The walls were dark brown with bits of straw and grass sticking out. The roof looked like someone had cut a swath of hay and the soil it grew in, then flattened it out on top of the soil house. The look reminded Jesse of the square clay slab box he'd made in art class last year. It was hard to believe that the house he lived in wouldn't be built for another fifty years.
“Well, I always wondered how they did it,” he thought about those settlers who'd lived in these “houses”. Jesse stepped through the door to find a woman in the middle of rolling out dough. The woman had flaming red hair that reminded him of how his mother's used to look, and from the elbows down to her thin hands, the color was that of fresh churned cream.
“Hello there, Laddie.” She turned to look at Jesse. “Ach, ye got a wee bit of the Irish in ye. Why you look a bit like me Patrick, ye do!”
Jesse thought her comment was quite humorous because if she only knew exactly how closely related they were, she would KNOW why they looked alike.
“Hello, Missus O'Connor. It sure smells nice in here.”
“Aye, quite the charmer ye are, Laddie. No reason to fret, I'll feed ye anyhow.” She smiled and Jesse found her smile to be warmer than he'd seen in the tintypes. “Do ye have a name, boy?” Her lilt sounded musical to Jesse.
Jesse thought a moment and realized he could give his full name without giving anything away.
“Jesse Patrick Brown, Ma'am,” he replied with a smile.
“Well, Mr. Jesse Patrick Brown, its nice to be meeting ye proper. And such good manners, too! Have a seat, Mr. Brown, and dinner will be set right quick.”
Jesse sat down at the table across from Patrick. He noticed the table was a beautiful mahogany, rough around the edges, looking almost unfinished, but he knew it was the same table that was now sanded smooth, lacquered, sitting in his kitchen a hundred years from now. The table reminded him of his mother, and he hoped she would be okay, especially now that he was missing. He prayed he wouldn't make a mistake and that his great-great-grandfather would heed his advice.
“So, ye do any ranching or farming, boy?” Patrick's deep, booming voice shook Jesse from his thoughts.
“A bit of both, sir. Mostly cattle ranching, but I have some knowledge of crops as well.”
“Is that so? Are ye looking for a spot of work on your way through?” Patrick raised his brow.
Now Jesse knew where his mother got that look.
“Yes, sir. I'd be willing to work for a roof over my head and food, sir.” Jesse answered.
“Is that so, boy?”
“Yes, sir. I am a hard worker, and I've got a good head on my shoulders for figures and the like.” Jesse was thankful now for the “Pioneer Days” they held at school one week each year as a way of honoring those who came before. He had never believed the information he'd learned would have come in handy until now. The aromas filling the room made Jesse's mouth water.
“Ah, something smells really good in here.” Patrick lifted his nose to the air. Inhaling deeply, he replied, “If my bonnie lass can do nothing else, the woman can cook.”
“Oh, aye, Patrick, I'll not leave your belly empty!” Brigid O'Connor set a pot on the table and went back for a plate of bread. Noticing the darker color and texture, Jesse asked, “Is that Irish Soda Bread?”
“Aye, it be! I knew ye had to be Irish!” Brigid said with a wink.
“Yes, Ma'am, my grandmother used to make it for me when I was just a tyke,” Jesse confirmed.
“Ach! Your grandmother is a fellow Irishwoman! Erin go Braugh!” Jesse couldn't help but smile since she and her daughter were the “grandmothers” he'd mentioned.
“Well, Patrick, say the blessin', and let's get on with the eatin',” Brigid suggested, her sparkling eyes smiling at her husband.
As they ate their evening meal, Jesse tried to sort through the events of the evening so far. He wondered what he could say to Patrick that could help him explain who he was and why he was here. He knew there was a good chance his great-great-grandfather would think he was crazy, but Jesse knew his grandparents were superstitious and thought he could find a way to “trick” Patrick into making the right choice. He had to be able to do this, his future depended on it. They finished the meal, and Patrick gave Jesse a bedroll to sleep on.
“We start when the sun does, Laddie, and I'm sure the Missus will be started before us,” Patrick stated bluntly.
Jesse nodded his agreement, closed his eyes, and prayed for guidance.





Chapter 3


Morning came sooner than Jesse was ready for, and he opened his eyes to find Patrick standing over him.
“Aye, good mornin' to ye lad. Are ye ready to start the day?”
“Yes, sir.” Jesse scrambled to his feet, bent down to pick up his bedroll, and heard a thud as something fell out of his pocket.
Patrick reached down to pick up the lost item only to exclaim, “Oi, what be this, Laddie? You've been thievin' from me after I give you a meal and a place to lay your head?”
Jesse turned to see the pocket watch given to him by his mother in Patrick's hand. Jesse knew this was his opportunity to explain why he was here.
“No, sir, I have not been in the house since our supper last night. Your watch is still in the house.”
“There's no use lying to me now, Laddie. I want ye off my land, and ye best be glad I'm not of the violent persuasion, or I'd be a shootin' ya.” Patrick looked almost heartbroken; the look of sadness crossed his face.
“Please, sir, would you go in and get your watch. I'll explain then, but I can't have you looking at me as a low born thief. My mother raised me better than that. You can take my watch in with you if that would ease your mind. I won't run off.” Jesse stayed calm, even though on the inside he was wondering what was coming next. Patrick headed into the house and after a few moments came back with two watches.
“It seems I owe you an apology, Laddie. You weren't a-thievin', but the watches look almost identical.” Patrick looked relieved and remorseful all at once.
“There's no apology necessary, sir, because you see, the watches are identical. Open them, sir.” Jesse was trying to ease his great-great-grandfather into the revelation coming. Patrick opened the covers and with a surprised breath began to read the inscription engraved on the inside, at which point Jesse chimed in,“Is maíth an scealaí an aímsír.” Patrick looked up at Jesse, “How is this possible?”
“Well, sir, as the inscription says, time is a great storyteller, and I'm the continuation of your story, to the point where I was given my middle name in your honor. I am your great-great-grandson and through some miraculous event was sent back to keep you from making a mistake that will cost us this land we love so much. I don't know how it happened, sir, but I will tell you the sheep you are planning on raising will be a disaster and will cost a great deal of land as a result.”
“Saints be praised! How did ye know of it, Laddie? I haven't told a soul!” Patrick blinked in awe.
“I also know that right now, Missus O'Connor is expecting your son. She suspects that she is, but won't know for another week, at which time she will sit in the rocking chair brought from Limerick. She will be making a pair of socks, and you'll ask why she's making them so small. She'll look at you, smile, look down at her belly, and you'll dance a jig.” Jesse grinned.
Patrick raised a brow, “That sounds a wee bit like blarney. The Missus can't have children. She was told as much years ago.”
“I think you should wait and see, sir,” Jesse said with a smirk.
“Well, I'll tell ye what, Laddie. If the Missus is indeed carrying my babe, I will nay continue with the sheep. Until then, we have work to do.”
“Yes, sir.”




Chapter 4


Within the next week, Patrick and Jesse had finished marking the land, built pens for the horses, planted a line of trees on the northern border of the property, and talked about what life was like in Jesse's time. Patrick showed an interest more in the story, Jesse thought, than the fact. Patrick loved to hear a good tale, and he thought Jesse was full of such stories. Jesse showed Patrick pictures of his family in an effort to prove his presence wasn't just a tale. Jesse even tried to explain to the best of his ability how the process of photograpy worked. He told Patrick of the troubles coming for their family with the loss of even more land and the loss of his father. Patrick listened with rapt attention, and offered sympathetic advice when he thought it was warranted. Jesse took the opportunity to remind Patrick of how important it was to instill the love of the land in his son. In order to keep the land in the family, in Jesse's time, minds had to be changed.
Towards the end of the week, Patrick asked Jesse,”So how did ye end up here, Laddie? The thought still boggles my mind.”
“I'm not sure, sir. I had just heard from my mother that we were going to have to move into town and sell the rest of the land. I was trying to come up with ideas to keep the land, thinking of all the things I could do to try and fix the problem. The clock stopped ticking, so I looked up at the stars, and wished I could fix the mistakes. I didn't think it was right for our family, with such a strong fighting spirit, to give up and disappear from the plains. The next thing I know, I'm waking up on the bank of the river thinking how upset mom was going to be about me being so late and discovered my horse was gone. After realizing I couldn't call her, I headed for the house only to find I was here.”
“That's quite the tale, Laddie, quite the tale indeed. I guess that's what the saying on the watch means.” Patrick grinned and went back to planting. They spent the afternoon in relative silence, content in working together to get the rest of the planting done. The men headed back for the house, and Jesse decided to check on Seanmhar. Within a few minutes time, Jesse heard a loud commotion coming from the house and grinned. True to schedule, Patrick came running out the door only to dance a jig in the yard.
“Jesse, my boy, you were right! The Missus is carrying my babe!”
Jesse smiled, “The unexpected always occurs.” Later that evening, after another wonderful dinner of beef stew and soda bread, Jesse and Patrick went out to look at the stars.
“Well, sir, I don't know how long I'll be here.”
Patrick looked over at Jesse and smiled, “Well, Laddie, if'n ye end up leaving, may the road rise to meet you. May the wind be always at your back. May the sun shine warm upon your face, and rains fall soft upon your fields.”
“On both our fields, sir, on both our fields.” Jesse looked at his great-great-grandfather's young face, trying to etch this moment in memory. “Sir, remember to go with the cattle, and as you become fond of saying, may their horns always touch the heather.”
They shared good night blessings, and Patrick went into the house. Jesse took one more look at the sod house, the pasture, and all the open land around the house. He pulled the watch out of his pocket and crawled into his bedroll. On a whim, Jesse wound the watch, and it began ticking, as steady as a heartbeat. He smiled up at the stars, and with the watch in his hand, went to sleep.




Chapter 5
“Jesse! Jesse, where are you?” Jesse heard someone calling for him. “Jesse!”
Jesse didn't open his eyes right away, thinking he was dreaming the sound of his father's voice. A set of strong hands gripped him, and Jesse's eyes opened to see a face he thought he would never look at again.
“Dad?” Jesse grabbed hold of his father and hugged him fiercely.
“Jesse, what in the hell are you doing out here by the river? Are you okay? Did you get hurt? Did you fall off Serendipity?” The questions came at a rapid fire pace as Brett Brown hurriedly called his wife on his cell phone.
“Anna, I found him. No, Honey, he seems to be all right. He was sleeping down here by the river. I'll get him up, and we'll be home soon. Would you call the hands and let them know?” Brett looked at his son.
“Where have you been? It's been a week since we found Serendipity in the south pasture, and other than a few cactus needles, she's okay. Your poor mother is in a panic, and I've got a few more grays myself now, boy. Where did you go? What did you think you were doing?”
Jesse knew his wish had fully come true. His great-great-grandfather had listened, the ranch was still theirs,fully intact, and, most importantly, his dad was alive and well.
He looked at his father and said, “Well, Dad, time is a great storyteller. You would be surprised if I told you what had been in my head for the last couple of weeks.”
“Couple of weeks, son, are you sure you didn't fall off your horse?” Brett had a look of relieved panic on his face.
“Let's just say I lost track of time and leave it at that, Dad.” Jesse stood up and picked his pocket watch up off the ground. He opened it, smiled at the inscription, and held it up to his ear. It was ticking louder than ever. He put it back in his pocket and headed toward the truck.