Slow John

by C. J. Petit

  Just as he finished mixing in his last ingredient, he heard Kate return, so he turned and lost his breath. Kate appeared in her riding ensemble, had brushed out her long sandy hair, tied it with the emerald green ribbon, and topped it off with her Stetson. Her white blouse and dark blue riding skirt highlighted her figure and with the Cooper Pocket pistol on her hip, created an image he would never forget. But it was her smile and those miraculous blue eyes that finally did him in.

  When he found his voice, he said, “Kate, you are nothing less than enchanting.”

  Kate smiled even wider and walked toward him, pleased with his comment and the look in his eyes that told her even more. It was the look of a man admiring a handsome woman.

  “I’ll take over with the cooking, while you put on your uniform, Lieutenant Flynn.”

  “Well, Miss Walsh, any good cavalryman must take care of his animals first, so it’ll be a while.”

  “Go ahead. You may as well get those clothes dirty.”

  John smiled and began to saddle the horses and mules. He had even polished his saddle, and finally put it in place on the big black gelding. With his brushed coat, the horse was an awesome creature to behold in the early morning sun.

  After he had finished getting all the animals ready for the short trip, he went down to the creek, washed, shaved and walked back over to his uniform. Unlike Kate, he didn’t hide anywhere. If she wanted to watch, he felt she was entitled.

  She did watch as he stripped off his shirt, his boots and then his pants. She did much more than enjoy the show, she began to let her imagination wander. Here she was just a few days past that horror in the sod cabin, and she was admiring the physique and masculinity of a man that she wanted to make love to her. For a brief moment, she asked if there was something wrong with her, but as she watched John pull on his uniform trousers, she said to herself, “Not a damned thing!”

  John pulled on his cavalry boots, then his blouse and saber. All the leather shone brightly as he topped it off with his cavalry officer’s hat. He was ready for the next show; the Big Show, the arrival of an officer and his lady at the home of their families.

  He stepped down to the fire and smiled at Kate, who simply melted. Slow John Flynn was so perfect! He looked like the ideal cavalry officer and she only imagined the impression he would have on that beautiful horse.

  The couple silently ate their breakfast, each in awe of the other.

  After they finished eating, John doused the fire and put away their cooking gear. He washed his hands once more and then donned his cavalry dress gloves. Then, it was time to begin the procession.

  No procession could get underway without some pomp, so John approached Kate, saluted smartly and said, “Miss Walsh, this officer would be honored if you would accompany him on a ride to meet his family.”

  Kate curtsied, smiled and replied, “Lieutenant Flynn, I most graciously accept your gallant proposal.”

  John offered her his hand and led her to her horse. She stepped up into the saddle as John watched, then he walked to the big black and mounted. He glanced over at Kate, they exchanged a long smile, then set the horses and mules westward toward North Platte.

  _____

  Ninety minutes later, Pappy Jones was pounding out the second large door handle for the new church. The first one had taken him three days, with all the twists he had put into the iron to make it decorative, and today was the last day for this one. He wasn’t even getting paid for his work, yet he felt his labor would be rewarded sooner or later, hopefully a lot later, he chuckled.

  He needed the iron hot again, so he plunged it back into the charcoal and began to pump the bellows to get it glowing. He was so immersed in his work that he didn’t hear the horses arrive at his door.

  What broke him out of his focus was a deep, “Good morning!”

  Pappy set the tongs aside and turned to find himself looking at what must be an apparition. There was a tall army officer, resplendent in his uniform all spit and polished on a great black horse, accompanied by a lovely woman wearing a pistol. And to make it more of a sight, they had a herd of horses and mules with them, all wearing saddles. Pappy didn’t know what to make of it, so he took the most reasonable path.

  “Good morning to you, sir and to your lady. What can I do for you?”

  “I hated to interrupt your work, but can you tell me where I might find the Flynn or Walsh families?”

  Pappy looked at the lieutenant’s face, gave him a big grin and said, “If you go east about a mile, you’ll see a turnoff heading north. That’s their wagon trail. The first place belongs to the Flynns and the second to the Walshes. Do you mind if I ask why you’re looking for them? We’ve had a bit of trouble recently.”

  “I’m John Flynn, and I haven’t seen my family since I went off to war in ’61, and this is Miss Catherine Mary Walsh, who was lost and hasn’t seen her family in two years. What kind of trouble?”

  “Shooting troubles. We’ve got some hotheads that quit the railroad and are making noise.”

  “Don’t you have a sheriff?”

  “We had two sheriffs, and both disappeared. We think the same group made it that way. You and your lady be careful. They really don’t cotton to Irish at all.”

  “How many of these troublemakers are there?”

  “I’d guess about a dozen or so, but there’s only about a half dozen of the really nasty ones. The rest are all hangers-on.”

  “What’s your name?”

  “Adam Jones, but everyone calls me Pappy.”

  John smiled and asked, “Why do they call you Pappy?”

  Pappy grinned. “It’s a long story.”

  “We’ll have to share nickname stories sometime, I’m called Slow John.”

  Pappy nodded and said, “It’s a pleasure to meet you Slow John Flynn. You and Miss Walsh take care.”

  John replied, “It’s good to know you, too, Pappy Jones. We’re off to meet our families.”

  John and Kate waved and headed their herd back east to find the northern turnoff.

  Pappy watched them leave and knew there were a lot of stories Lieutenant Slow John Flynn could share. He finally turned back to his shop, picked up his tongs and removed the glowing door handle.

  _____

  “What do you think, Kate?” John asked loudly over the noise of the clopping hooves.

  “It sounds like North Platte is a dangerous place. The blacksmith seemed nice, though.”

  “I think there are probably a lot more folks like the blacksmith than the dozen that are causing most of the trouble. The fact that they hired two sheriffs means they’re trying to get things cleared up.”

  Kate nodded but kept her eyes focused forward. She could see a barn and house in the distance, maybe two miles away and felt her heart pounding. She knew that just beyond those buildings were more of the same belonging to her family. Now, more than anything, she wanted John close, and not just riding alongside close, because Jack was there, too.

  John had been watching the buildings as well, knowing that what he was seeing was his family home. As dangerous as the trip had been, he knew he’d be losing the closeness with Kate that could only be experienced by being constantly together and sharing everything, and he was already missing it, but was planning on rectifying the issue when he thought that Kate was ready.

  _____

  Two miles away, Maggie had stopped by the Flynn house to talk to Eliza about her problem with Jack. They were sitting on the porch for some measure of privacy and to let Eliza rest her swollen ankles.

  “Patrick said that Jack won’t even listen to him anymore and that Dennis isn’t having any luck either.”

  “I know. All I can hope for is that it’ll get better after the baby is born.”

  Maggie smiled and said, “Patrick told me that his Mom said that if Slow John were here, he’d be able to straighten Jack out in an instant.”

  “I can’t even say anything about John at all, but it’s not as bad as when I say so
mething about Kate. He really gets angry if I even say her name.”

  “Patrick said his Mom thought that Slow John and Kate would have been perfect for each other and that they probably found each other in heaven.”

  Eliza looked at her sister wistfully and said, “I miss Kate, Maggie. I miss the old Kate, before she went off and married that fat pig, Phil.”

  “So, do I, Eliza. Those were some of our happiest times, when just the three of us could get together and talk and laugh. But, I have Patrick and Mary now, so I’m content.”

  “Content about what?” asked Martha as she walked out of the house onto the porch pushing some stray red hair from her face back behind her right ear where it belonged.

  “Oh, we were just talking about when we were girls and growing up together.”

  “That must have been nice having sisters, instead of those big lummoxes that I had for brothers.” she replied with a laugh.

  Before either Eliza or Maggie could respond, Martha pointed down the road and said, “Looks like somebody’s coming. That’s a big dust cloud. I’ve got to get the shotgun and get the men in here!”

  Maggie and Eliza both stood and saw the large dust cloud to the south. It must be a lot of riders, but they didn’t panic.

  Martha had grabbed the shotgun and raced through the kitchen where Mary Flynn and Catherine Walsh were baking. She shouted, “Riders coming!’ and bolted out the back door and fired one barrel of the shotgun into the air to alert the men. They’d be there in three minutes.

  Meanwhile, Eliza and Maggie had each taken another shotgun and ensured they were both loaded before snapping them closed and walking out to the front porch.

  _____

  “Did that sound like a shotgun to you, Kate?” asked John loudly.

  “I’m not sure, but it was a gunshot.” she yelled back.

  “I guess they’re all worried about those yahoos back in North Platte that Pappy warned us about.”

  Kate nodded.

  _____

  The men were breathing heavily as they poured in from the fields. Dennis was the first to reach the house and accepted the reloaded shotgun from Martha.

  “What’s the matter, Martha?” he asked between deep breaths.

  “Big bunch of riders coming from North Platte. They’re still about a mile off or so.”

  The other men heard Martha’s warning, and all entered the house. Mary and Catherine had already filled glasses with water, knowing that they’d be needed for the men after their run in from the fields. Each man grabbed and quickly downed the water and the bunch of them trotted down the hallway and took shotguns from Maggie and Eliza, leaving only Jack and the women without one. Then everyone went out to the front porch to see what was coming, the armed men forming a line in front of the porch.

  Martha had her hand above her eyes watching the riders approach and was the first to notice that the first rider was wearing a uniform.

  “The tall man out front is wearing an army uniform and there’s only two of them. The rest of the horses are empty.” she said just short of shout so even the men on the ground could hear her.

  “What’s the second one wearing?” shouted Michael Flynn.

  “I could be wrong,” replied Martha, “but I think it’s a woman. I can see long hair.”

  Then it was Mary Flynn who said the stunner, whether it was from actually seeing who it was or just a mother’s hope.

  “It’s Slow John!” she shouted. “He’s come home!”

  None of the Walshes had seen John before, so they had no idea, but the Flynns all studied the riders as they drew closer.

  Jack shouted, “Mom, Slow John’s dead. The army said so. It’s just some out of work soldier looking for a job.”

  Mary snapped, “That’s Slow John, Jack. I know it is.”

  Then, Maggie threw another log into the flame of confusion when she added loudly. “I can’t believe it, but that looks like Kate with him!”

  His mother claiming that the rider was Slow John had upset Jack, and he deflected it as a mother’s wishful fantasy, but when Maggie announced that Kate was coming, he felt the bitter taste of panic and strained his eyes to examine the two, who were less than a half mile away.

  Jack squinted and saw what they claimed was Slow John and Kate. As impossible as it was, there was no doubt that if that was Kate, the truth would be out, and if that was Slow John, he would do much more than confront him. Slow John would kill him.

  Jack began to drift to the left while all the others’ eyes were on the riders. Once he was twenty feet away, he ran. He ran to the kitchen first and threw open the canister with the family fund, grabbed the bills and then sprinted back out to the barn. He was wild-eyed in unrestrained panic as he unleashed the family mule, leapt on its back and trotted north away from the farm and the pending arrival of his worst nightmare.

  _____

  John had seen someone race away from the group and then, after a brief stop in the house, run into the barn and quickly ride away. There was no doubt that Jack had just bolted, confirming Kate’s story, not that John ever doubted its veracity.

  “Did you see that, Kate?” he shouted.

  “Yes. He’s gone, John. Are you going to chase after him?”

  John surprised her, and pleased her immensely when he replied, “No, Kate. I’m staying with you. I’ll worry about Jack later. But I think they figured out who we are, Kate. Let’s give them a wave.”

  Kate grinned as both waved wildly to the assembled families.

  On the porch the women waved back with their right hands while wiping away tears with their left. Mary Flynn couldn’t wave at all, as she had fallen to her knees, weeping while praying to a merciful God that had returned her son.

  On the ground the men were all waving, their shotguns lowered. Peter Flynn was almost as bad as his wife, letting tears run across his weathered face, as he added his prayers of thanks to his wife’s.

  Kate’s family, while almost as emotional, weren’t as deeply affected in seeing her as John’s family was for a very practical reason. Kate had just disappeared, and they had all hoped that sooner or later she would return. But John’s family had been told in an official telegram that he was dead. It was final and beyond question.

  Kate was no longer worried about the reception she would receive when she could see her sisters and parents all waving to her with smiles on their faces and tears in their eyes. She was smiling, waving and sobbing all at the same time.

  Only Slow John seemed unaffected by the sight, but that was on the outside. Inside, the sight of his mother on her knees, weeping as she prayed, twisted his heart into an emotional pretzel. Seeing his parents and his two good brothers waving at him filled him with such a sense of joy that even his incredible self-control was on the verge of bursting.

  Just seconds later, the long-awaited event reuniting Kate and Slow John to their families finally exploded on the front yard of the Flynn home just northeast of North Platte, Nebraska at 10:13 a.m. on April 25, 1867.

  Kate was the first off her horse, her feet churning as she hit the ground, followed by a sprint toward the house as Maggie raced toward her and Eliza did as best she could to catch up. Close behind were her parents, who couldn’t match their daughters’ speed, even the pregnant one. They collided more than just met, fifty feet in front of the house and then each was soon engulfed in new waves of tears.

  John watched the family fusion before stepping down for his more sedate reunion with his family. Dennis and Patrick reached him first and embraced him as allowed under the strict guidelines of the manly code, before John turned to his parents. He stepped up onto the porch and bear hugged his father, and neither cared about the code as they released their happiness.

  After just a few seconds, Michael John Flynn released his son, stepped back with his hands still on Slow John’s shoulders and looked at his taller, stronger son.

  “Slow John, how did this happen?” he asked in a shaky voice.

  “I’ll
explain everything shortly, Athair, but I think my Mamai needs to talk to me.” he replied, looking down at his teary-eyed father.

  “Aye. I think so.” he replied, letting his son loose, and following him as he walked to his mother.

  John stopped six feet before his mother, who had just returned to her feet from her lengthy and heartfelt prayer. She stepped shakily toward him with her arms reaching forward and tears still flowing across her face and dripping onto the porch.

  John stretched his arms as she approached, ready to receive her.

  “Slow John,” she said quietly as she took two wobbly steps toward him, “can you ever forgive this stubborn old woman for saying those horrible things to you before you left?”

  John pulled his mother into his arms and replied softly, “Mamai, you aren’t old, but I’ll give you the stubborn part.”

  Mary laughed and wiped away the tears as she gazed at the face of her reborn son.

  “John, not an hour went by that I didn’t regret what I had said, but my stubbornness had hold of me. I kept thinking you’d come walking in the door and we’d be together again, but then that horrible day when that telegram arrived, and they said you died, I felt part of my soul wither away. They lied, John. They lied.”

  “They made a mistake, Mom. A man named John Flint died, and they sent you the telegram instead. But it’s all behind us now, Mamai. I’m here.”

  She stepped back and looked at him, the pride making her face glow.

  “And look at you, Slow John. You’re so big and strong now, and just as handsome as ever. And you’re an officer, too.”

  “I’m not in the army any more, Mamai. Kate just asked me to wear the uniform when we came back.”

  “And how is it that you brought Kate back? That must be a long tale in itself.”

  “We’ll tell everyone in a little while. I’ll go and get Kate and we’ll all meet in the main room after we get the horses and mules taken care of.”

  “I see you’ve brought a herd. I’m sure you’ll explain that as well.”