Part One:
"Sarah hand me the Bible,"
"Yes Pa, you writin' your Sunday sermon?"
"Yes child,"
"Pa 'fits alright with you, I'm going to sit on the porch for a little while."
"It's fine with me Sarah,"
Sarah walked out into the warm July evening. She was all of twenty years old and a preacher's daughter to boot. A slight breeze blew, ruffling the skirt of her peach calico dress. Some five minutes pass and she sees two figures coming.
"Pa,"
"What is it Sarah?"
"Two men on horse back are coming, should I get the shotgun?"
"No,"
"Pa, these strangers could be Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry. Think of it you'd be able to finance the building of that hospital a lot better then you are now, twenty thousand dollars better."
"Fine just don't shoot, they are wanted dead or alive, I'm sure that the authorities would prefer them alive."
Sarah grabbed the shotgun off the wall and returned to the porch to light the oil lamps on the wall. She then walked a few yards from the cabin.
"Alright hold it right there, don't come any closer or I'll shoot!"
Heyes looked over at Curry and whispered, "She don't have the gumption to shoot that old shotgun,"
"Don't know 'bout that, Heyes, you remember last August-"
"Don't shoot, don't shoot," Heyes halts his horse and raises his hands in the air, Curry follows in suit. Well there goes our amnesty, if she knows who we are, he thought.
"Who are you and what is your business?"
"Name's Thaddeus Jones and this is my partner Joshua Smith."
"Ma'am, all we want is a night's lodgin' and maybe a spot of coffee."
"Follow me, and take them gun belts off before you set foot in the house." Sarah's voice held a pang of irritation.
Heyes and Curry followed Sarah to the house. They dismounted and tied their horses to the hitching rail then finally took off their gun belts and hung them from the horns of their saddles.
"Who are they Sarah?"
"They seem to be a couple of drifters Pa,"
"I meant names, Sarah,"
"Pa, this is Mr. Smith and Mr. Jones,"
"Well, I'm Smith and he's Jones." Heyes corrected
"Ah and how can I be of service, Mr. Smith?"
"What?"
"Well, I assume that you came to ask me to pray for someone, give last rites to a dying friend, or perhaps preside over a funeral."
"No, we just want to stay the night and we'll be gone at first light."
"In that case there's room in the barn, for you and your horses."
"Pa," Sarah whispered.
"I'm not having two strangers sleeping in my house,"
"We're much obliged to ya ma'am,"
"Please, call me Sarah; this is my father Reverend John Howard."
Heyes and Curry walked back outside and led their horses to the to the barn, unsaddled them, rubbed them down, fed and watered them, then put them into the two empty stalls next to a black mare with a white star on her forehead.
"So, I suppose we sleep in the hay loft."
"Seems like it would be the most comfortable, Kid you realize she's a preacher's daughter, right?"
Yeah, but-"
"But what, Kid?"
"She ain't like a preacher's daughter should be,"
"How d'ya figure?"
"Heyes, do I hafta spell it out for ya, she ain't docile, she's got spunk."
"Spunk?"
"She wants to break away from this way of life and live more… unpredictable like,"
"Yeah, and if'n she comes with us, more then likely her pa will get the local sheriff on our tail and our shot at amnesty is out the window."
"It's worth the risk,"
"No, Kid, it ain't,"
With that they climbed up into the hay loft and went to sleep. As they had promised they rose at first light and made ready to leave.
"Mornin',"
"Sarah,"
"Thought you two would like some breakfast before you leave."
While Heyes and Curry ate their breakfast, Sarah set to making ready to leave. It's about time I left home, I've packed light and-
"And just what do ya think you're doing?"
"Well, if'n you don't mind I'm coming with you."
"Oh no, oh no ya ain't, if you think we're gonna stay in fancy hotels every night-"
"I can adapt to life on the trail, Mr. Smith, I ain't a 'delicate flower'."
"Your call, Kid," Oops I should not have said that.
"Good Lord! You're Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry."
"Nice goin' Heyes, now what do we do?"
"If I come with you I won't be able to say anything,"
"There's that and there's the fact that they will think we kidnapped you, but that's a risk we'll have to take."
The trio led their horses out of the barn then mounted up and loped off. After a few hours they stopped by a stream to let the horses rest for a little while.
"So, Kid, how's Sarah gonna help our cover?"
"Well, she looks like she could be your sister, but I think it would be safer if she posed as a wife to one of us."
"Mr. Curry, not to complain, but there's a small hitch in the 'wife' plan, to make it look convincing I'll need a wedding band."
"You mean to tell us you don't own a plain gold ring?"
"Mr. Heyes, I've never been married, but I'm engaged."
"Alright, just call me Heyes and call him Kid, let's just figure this out and get moving again."
"You two go ahead and sort this out I'll just go with whatever is decided."
"You and Kid would make a nice couple,"
"Heyes, she'll be your wife,"
"What? Kid, I can't… I won't…"
"I now pronounce you Mr. and Mrs. Joshua Smith."
"Kid, I oughta-"
"You ain't gonna- look, Heyes, I don't like this either but we're gonna have to deal with it,"
"Alright, but I ain't gonna like it."
For the rest of the day they rode in silence. In attempt to keep the peace Sarah rode between Heyes and the Kid. When they stopped to make camp for the night Sarah went to gather fire wood while Heyes and the Kid set to making supper.
"Still proddy about earlier?"
"No, I figured that it won't be too bad to have some feminine company for a while, might even help with the amnesty."
"How old do you think she is?"
"Younger then us, but not by much, twenty-one at the least."
After eating a modest supper the trio set to figuring out their sleeping arrangements.
"We should keep watch tonight just in case if the posse, if there is one, plans to spring us tonight."
"I agree Kid; you want me to take the first watch?"
"Nah, I'll take it, I'll get you up in three hours or so,"
oooOOOooo
Sarah poured herself another cup of coffee, she couldn't sleep. The full moon cast a dim light that made long shadows on the ground. Heyes seemed to already sound asleep, his head propped up on the seat of his saddle and his hat covering his face. Sarah placed another log onto the dying fire, sending sparks into the night air. She felt slightly home sick.
"Sarah," came a voice pulling her from a light doze. "Go on and lie down, all the rest you can get your gonna need out here."
"Okay,"
"Heyes, my shift is up,"
"What? Oh, okay," Heyes grabbed his rifle.
"Here, have some coffee,"
"Kid I'll get you up in three hours,"
"You want any coffee, Kid?"
"No, I'll get some when I go back out."
Sleep finally over took Sarah, somewhere in the distance a coyote howled at the moon. The night passes quickly in the near silence. Before anyone knows its morning.
Sarah feels a gentile hand on her shoulder; reluctantly she opens her eyes to see Heyes kneeling beside her.
"Mornin' Sarah,"
"Mornin' Heyes, Kid; what's for breakfast?"
"Bacon, coffee, and left over beans from last night,"
"I'll just have some coffee,"
After breakfast the trio saddled up and rode off. They didn't stop until half past noon. Their lunch was of bread and beef jerky. After resting for an hour it was back on the trail, and Sarah was starting to feel weary.
"How ya holdin' up darlin'?"
"To tell you the truth Heyes, I'm getting tired."
"Happens to all first timers, takes some time to get used to."
"I'm also a little home sick,"
"Then why'd ya come?"
"Pa was fixin' to marry me off. Heyes, it was going to be to some guy back east."
"Who was the man?"
"Some high society New Yorker,"
"What would your pa want with the influx of money?"
"Fund the building of a hospital in Miles City."
"Didn't know we were in Montana,"
"Will you two quit jawin' and hurry up?"
"Aw, what's the rush Kid?"
"I just want to make camp at twilight instead of midnight."
Sarah heard the distant sound of hoof beats. They were coming fast, almost as if they were chasing someone. She looked over her shoulder and saw the posse coming.
"Heyes,"
"What is it darlin'?"
"Look over your-" gun fire dampened the rest of the sentence, but it seemed that Heyes got the message.