DISCLAIMER: The Young Riders is the creation of Ed Spielman, and the property of Ogiens/Kane productions in association with MGM/UA television. This Story is created for entertainment purposes only, no infringement intended. Not to be copied without permission from the author.
Her chores for the day completed, Clarry moved into the bunkhouse taking a bunk underneath the one that she was told Jimmy slept in. She sat on that bunk now her meager possessions unpacked, her guns and beloved hair hidden safely in the barn. She waited for Rachel to start supper so she had something else to do. She hated idle time. Idle time was time that she couldn’t help thoughts of her beloved brother filling her mind. As she sat on her bunk, her fingers idly traced his picture, holding the gilt edged frame in one hand, she ran her fingers over his smiling face, his curly black hair poking out cheekily from beneath his hat. She frowned as her fingers moved over his guns, knowing that they were the cause of his problems. Watching his happy smiling face in the picture she couldn’t help but remember the way he used to pull her braids and laugh at her reaction. Tears that had been welling in her eyes overflowed, speaking volumes of her sorrow to anyone witnessing them.
Clarry hadn’t noticed Jimmy enter the bunkhouse and he stood watching her trace quivering fingers across the gilt edged frame. He knew that Teaspoon expected them to befriend the youngster the same way they had Jesse, but even so Jimmy was reluctant to intrude on his obvious sorrow.
Watching the pain in the face of his new bunkmate, he wondered what had happened to make such a young boy so unhappy. He had felt a kinship with the newcomer since his arrival and though he had tried to fight it he knew that there was something about this youngster that drew him like a moth to a flame. Maybe because he sensed the same sense of desolation in his soul that he carried himself.
Crossing to Clarry’s bunk, he sank down beside him on the bed, wanting to offer whatever support he could. However, seeing the tears that falling down smudged cheeks, he realized exactly what it was that drew him to Clarry. His new bunkmate was just like Lou. He couldn’t decide what it was that tipped him off, perhaps it was the fact that he had so often seen Lou try to bury her emotions exactly the same way. He didn’t know how he was so sure, he just knew.
A broad smile crossed his face as he realized that now he knew exactly how Kid had felt all this time. Drawn to what the outside world thought was a young male and knowing that inside it was a beautiful young woman, he wasn’t sure that he was going to handle it any better than Kid had. Jimmy didn’t know why Clarry was hiding her true appearance from the world but he knew in his heart that he was not going to betray her. If there was one thing he could do for her, he would be there to support and guide her, even protect her if she needed it but he would never let her know that he knew of her gender until she was ready to tell him himself.
The first that Clarry knew of Jimmy being in the room was when he sat on the bunk beside her. So deeply was she engrossed in her memories she had missed him entering the room. She berated herself mentally for her slip in judgement and concentration. Roughly scrubbing her tears from her dirty cheeks she kept her eyes down turned, knowing that if anything was going to give her away as being a woman it would be her eyes.
“Are you alright Clarry?” he placed a firm hand on her frail shoulder
“I’m fine.” She murmured gruffly slipping out from under Jimmy’s hand and moving to place the framed photo in her saddlebags.
“Is that a friend?” Jimmy asked softly “Could I see?” he spoke quietly
“My brother” she spoke her voice wistful as she spoke
“Can I see please?” he asked again, curious to see the young man who meant so much to the young girl who stood before him.
Clarry stood for what seemed like an eternity holding the frame against her chest. Wondering if she would be giving away her identity by showing him the photo of the young man he had killed. Realizing that she was making him more curious about her past than was wise, she handed him the frame.
Jimmy looked at the picture he held in his hands, the face of the young man oddly familiar to him. The smiling brown almost black eyes, black curly hair, and slim build. He couldn’t be more than 16 years old, but that was not what surprised Jimmy. The young man in the photo was wearing a custom made gun fighters rig. He wasn’t sure where he knew the face from but he knew that at sometime in the not so distant past he had met her brother and something told him that it had not been a happy meeting. He had the uneasy feeling that he had caused at least part of the sadness that he saw in Clarry’s face. He only hoped that she could forgive him for whatever transgression he had made.
Clarry watched Jimmy looking at the picture her anger feeding the rage growing inside her as she watched him. He had taken the life of her beloved brother and did not even remember his precious face let alone show some sort of remorse. She would no longer be fooled by this good looking man’s charisma, he was no better than the gun fighter she knew deep down that he was.
TO BE CONTINUED
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